One Good Turn
by PersephoneoftheWest
Summary: AU starting at GoF. One small step and a sudden tumble was all it took to change the course Fate had chosen for them. Hr/C. FeistyHermione! Foot-in-Mouth-But-CaringRon! No character bashing.
1. Chapter One: One False Step

**Chapter One: One False Step**

Hermione trudged alongside Ginny as the group continued their trek up to Stoatshead Hill in near-darkness, arms crossed tightly across her chest to ward off the cold. They had set off hours earlier and by now her hands were freezing, and she wasn't altogether sure her feet were still attached to the ends of her legs. The gray cotton motorcycle jacket she had thought sufficient for the journey in the toasty confines of the Burrow was now presenting itself as the mistake it was. She zipped the jacket up a bit more, struggling momentarily with the strap of her messenger bag and unsurprisingly, felt little relief.

At the head of their group, Mr. Weasley was still explaining the finer points of what went into organizing an event as large as the World Cup, blissfully unaware that she and Harry alone were listening. Meanwhile, a little ways ahead, Fred and George were walking side-by-side, deep in conversation, no doubt planning the resurrection of _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_.

Hermione quietly smiled to herself. As much as she disapproved of the twins' disruptive inventions at times, she had to admit that someof them were rather ingenious. She knew they were brilliant no matter what their grades said. They obviously understood the theories behind spells and potions backwards and forwards judging by their products. She supposed the twins simply had no patience for the mundane coursework she herself thrived on.

Personally, Hermione disagreed with Mrs. Weasley. Opening a joke shop of their own, spending their days doing what they love, inventing and pranking, Hermione couldn't imagine a more perfect career for them. Though she wasn't about to let Mrs. Weasley know that.

Her train of thought was swept away by a particularly strong gust of wind that blew through her. She blinked rapidly as she swiped the wayward wisps of hair out of her eyes as they came loose from her ponytail. Her hair, once a frizzy and often tangled mess, had softened slightly into loose curls that cascaded past her shoulders. It was as untamable and voluminous as ever, but she considered it an improvement all the same.

"How much farther is the bloody site?" Ginny suddenly wheezed beside her.

She had officially resigned herself to the crass language Ginny and the boys' language so often employed, no longer bothering to chastise them for it. Instead, she shrugged idly, "No idea. I'll go ask your father."

She sped up, smirking as she approached Fred and George from behind, and draped an arm around each twin, "Now, you boys wouldn't be plotting the resurrection of a certain _joke_ shop, would you?"

Fred and George smiled mischievously at each other and then down at Hermione, " _Us?_ " exclaimed Fred.

" _Never_." George finished.

"Well you know, three years of being best friends with Ron and Harry has taught me a few tricks, and I _do_ have quite the reputation of being a goody two shoes. So, if you ever need a place to stash anything...you know who to ask," she winked at them slyly, clicking her tongue before she continued on ahead of them. The twins stared after her in open shock. Had Hermione just offered to help them _defy_ Molly Weasley?

Mr. Weasley was still explaining Portkeys and apparition points to Harry when Hermione reached their side.

When Mr. Weasley noticed she had joined them he stopped mid-sentence, "Ah! Hermione, my dear! I expect Ginny sent you up here for an estimate. Yes, she's never had much room for patience I'm afraid. Or physical exertion. The last time we did something like this she spent half the journey asking if we were there yet! Mind you, we were traveling by _broom_ then." Hermione and Harry exchanged smiles of amusement, Mr. Weasley's tangents were nothing if not entertaining. "Ah, nearly there! Our Portkey site's at the top of the hill."

Hermione remained at the head of the group with Harry and Ron for a while, listening to Mr. Weasley recount some of the odder, not to mention hilarious incidents he'd witnessed at large Wizarding events such as the World Cup, mostly involving Wizards' disastrous attempts to pass as Muggles. Their laughter carried through the wooded hillside and and when Hermione's legs suddenly felt twenty times lighter, she realized they must be nearing the top. She hung back to wait for Ginny, receiving a rather powerful sort-of-hug from the twins as they sandwiched her between them when they passed. She laughed out loud at their antics, shoving them away playfully.

Hermione waited patiently until Ginny's red hair popped into view a few seconds later as she trudged through the trees and foliage looking fractious. She grimaced in sympathy and held out a bottle of water in offering to the young girl when she was a few paces away.

Ginny accepted it gratefully, though still grumbling irritably, before gulping down half of it in one go.

"Arthur, there you are!" a voice echoed through the woods.

When Hermione and Ginny had caught up the rest of the group, they found Mr. Weasley speaking to a tall, be-speckled wizard.

"This your lot, Arthur?" the wizard asked, taking in their motley group with a measure of amusement.

"Just the redheads. These are Ron's best friends, Hermione and Harry. They're staying with us until term starts. This is Amos Diggory, everybody," said Mr. Weasley, and everyone said a short 'hello'. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. You lot probably know his son, Cedric," both Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory looked around.

"Now where's he got to?" said Mr. Diggory, "Ced!"

Hermione held back a sigh as she readjusted her bag uncomfortably. She shifted her weight as she swung it over to her other shoulder, losing her balance slightly before taking a step to her left to regain it. Before she could fully process what was happening she saw a flash of blue in her peripheral vision as an oddly solid rush of wind delivered a glancing blow to her left side. A shout of surprise escaped her as her precarious balance on the grassy mound was lost and she fell backwards. Hermione only registered the sound of another above her and the feel of a hand gripping her arm and another digging into her waist as she fell. Her hands instinctively found purchase on Cedric Diggory's shoulder's as his lanky 6'1'' frame crashed into her and the entangled pair tumbled along the dewy grass and roots of the forest ground.

They skid to a halt a few meters in a particularly mossy patch of the forest, a tangle of limbs that released matching curses and groans of pain. For a few seconds everything seemed to be spinning before Hermione's eyes. She heard Cedric's pained cough from somewhere above her and felt the sudden urge to punch him. _Honestly, of all the_ _ **ridiculous**_ _things to do!_

She reigned in the urge however, and settled for trying to get out from under him. One of Cedric's arms was still wound tightly about her waist and the other had migrated around her shoulders, his hand hopelessly tangled in her now loose hair. Both were breathing heavily and Cedric bit back a groan against the sensation of Hermione's lithe body grinding against his as she attempted to get up.

He rolled off her quickly, trying not to pull her long hair as he attempted to extricate his hand from it and groaning as he landed on another great, dirty root.

Hermione released a sigh of relief and lay eagle spread on the hard ground, trying to slow her racing heart. She glared half-heartedly over at the boy lying beside her.

"What in hell made you think that would be a good idea?" she puffed out.

She watched him shrug sheepishly and then wince a sharp root dug into his back at the movement.

"I was bored, got tired of waiting," he said as though it explained everything.

"So you thought you'd climb a tree?" he shrugged again. "And how's _that_ working out for you?" Hermione asked sardonically.

"Well, things are infinitely more interesting," he mused, wincing slightly as he smiled over at her, "And I'm definitely not bored."

Hermione stared at him incredulously for a second, stubbornly fighting a smile before failing miserably and dissolving into laughter followed shortly by Cedric.

That was the scene the others stumbled onto: Cedric rolling to his feet and offering Hermione a hand up, both still laughing breathlessly. Hermione was almost immediately swarmed by a sea of redheads, while Cedric's father worriedly clambered over to him. Ron and the twins were looking over at Cedric with murder written in their eyes, while Ginny, Harry and Mr. Weasley fussed over Hermione, Mr. Weasley quickly casting a diagnostic spell to check for injuries as well as a cleaning charm on her clothes.

"I'm alright, really," Hermione reassured them, chuckling, "Ron's smashed his toe on the nightstand and Harry nearly fell down a rabbit hole already this morning, I suppose it was my turn."

Mr. Weasley laughed jovially, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. She caught Cedric's eye while his father admonished him lightly about jumping out of trees and landing on pretty girls, 'They don't much appreciate that, my boy. _Nobody_ does.' he said jokingly, though his tone was a mixture of worry and censure.

"I am sorry, my dear. Ced doesn't always think before he acts." He directed at Hermione, his smile widened slightly when he saw her properly and added, "Especially when it comes to beautiful young women."

He gave Cedric a not so subtle nudge who then flushed red and dropped his head in obvious embarrassment, muttering a furious, ' _Dad!_ '

Hermione had to bite back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire situation and smiled kindly, shooting Cedric a sympathetic look, "Not to worry, I've been put through worse by these two over the years." She gestured at her two best friends, nudging Harry, who was nearest, with her hip. Harry smiled sheepishly, while Ron positively beamed, unashamed of their penchant for danger. Mr. Diggory laughed merrily.

"We'd best get a move on, or we'll miss the portkey!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, looking at his watch worriedly.

"Off we go then, you lot. Keep up," Mr. Diggory agreed, both of them leading the large group back up the hillside.

Ron and the twins followed on with grumbled protests, Harry trailing behind them silently. Hermione and Cedric heaved their bags off the ground with groans of pain and trudged up the hill alongside Ginny.

"I really am sorry. I didn't see you until it was too late," Cedric said earnestly as they started the final leg of their journey.

"Oh, don't worry about it, honestly. It makes for a good story if nothing else," Hermione laughingly reassured him.

"I'm Cedric Diggory by the way."

Hermione shook his extended hand with an amused smile.

"I know. Our Quidditch team captain was about ready to drown himself last year when you got one over on Gryffindor." Cedric seemed to wince slightly at the reminder. "All in the past now, of course. I'm-"

"Hermione Granger, the wits of the Golden Trio." Cedric interjected with a smirk.

She looked up at him in amused curiosity, "The who of the _what?_ "

"Don't tell me you three don't know about that," he said incredulously.

"No!" She chuckled incredulously, "How did that happen? _When_ did that happen?"

Cedric smiled and shrugged unconcernedly, "Not sure. Sometime after the troll incident that one Halloween I think. That's when I first heard it anyhow."

"Oh," she murmured, suddenly looking pensive.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I was just teasing," Cedric offered after she was silent for a few minutes.

"No, it's not that," she smiled, "I just wondered if I've heard anyone use the phrase before and just didn't understand it."

"I think the twins were behind come to the think of it."

"They would be, wouldn't they?" Hermione said with a rueful shake of her head.

—-

They walked in silence for the most part, the steepness of the terrain abruptly increasing once more and their brisk pace making it difficult to do much else. Cedric had remained close to Hermione's side since they set off, joining in on the sporadic bursts of conversation between her and the others, but mainly observing her curiously.

She laughed a little breathlessly at something Harry said, simultaneously steadying Ginny as a chunk of earth had the discourtesy to give way beneath her foot. His initial assessment of her had come up short, he realized, his lips quirking up into an involuntary smile.

He'd seen her from his, admittedly ill advised, perch in the tree over viewing the hillside, and had quickly recognized her as the brilliant part of what the school referred to as the Golden Trio. But what had really caught his attention was the ease with which she interacted with the lot of them, no trace of guile or discomfort, not even a _speck_ of the prim and proper attitude he had so often heard her accused of possessing. Quite the opposite in fact. He'd watched her joke with the twins, even leaving them speechless at one point (an impressive feat if he'd ever witnessed one), seen her share secret smiles with Potter and the youngest Weasley boy, laughing freely as they listened to Mr. Weasley. She had even taken the ribbing from the twins in good stride, _more_ than just good actually, she had laughed merrily at their antics not seeming the least bit put out.

Cedric didn't think he had ever been so intrigued by any woman in his life. Even taking into account his ardent admirer, the lovely Cho Chang. Though, he had to admit, Cho, while beautiful, didn't exactly have many other favorable adjectives to add to her character. Her loyalty was questionable at best, sometimes changing allegiances to secure the better outcome for herself, she was petty, jealous and often conceited, though she worked hard to conceal any trace of those qualities. No, Hermione Granger, he decided, seemed to be in a category all her own.

They reached the top of Stoatshead Hil minutes later, only to fine Mr. Weasley holding a manky looking old boot in his hand. He heaved a great sigh of relief and exhaustion and checked his watch, "We've made good time. Eleven minutes to spare and we've already found the Portkey. I reckon we have time to take a breather."

Everyone exclaimed in relief, dropping to the ground on the spot, only taking care to avoid any rocks and each other. Hermione plopped herself down on a particularly soft patch of grass with a quiet sigh of relief.

"Oi, Hermione, where's that water?" Ron's voice echoed suddenly from somewhere to her left.

"Do you mean, 'Please, Hermione, may I have some of the water you had the good sense to bring?' Why of course, Ron, since you asked so nicely," Hermione shot back, only half-joking.

"Yeah, alright, whatever. Just pass me the water already?' he groused.

Hermione threw the bottle in the direction of his voice, smiling slightly when she heard it hit its mark.

"Oops, catch!" She warned sarcastically. The twins and Cedric snickered as Ron glared over at her.

"He always like that?"

Hermione looked over at Cedric on her right, and smirked, "This is quite pleasant for him, actually."

"Two minutes!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley.

The wind carried their various sounds of discomfort carried as they stretched out their stiff joints and made their way to Mr. Weasley, the natural order of things seemingly restored as Harry and Ron each took a place beside Hermione, much to Cedric's dismay. Lucky for him, however, Ginny Weasley was a keen observer of human behavior and she _certainly_ hadn't missed the fact that Cedric had yet to remove his gaze from her best friend for more than a few seconds at a time.

And so, the youngest Weasley gave her older brother a swift kick in the ankle, craftily making it seem like an accident by pretending to stumble as well. Ron, meanwhile, went flying to the ground, landing face first in the grass. Ginny's face rivaled her hair as she shot Cedric a pointed look and he quickly maneuvered himself beside Hermione, who looked torn between amusement and concern as she watched Ron scramble off the ground. He rushed over to the rest of them, glaring balefully at Ginny and Cedric in turn. It didn't help that he ended up sandwiched between the twins.

"Now, all you have to do is touch the portkey." Mr. Weasley instructed, though it was mainly directed at Hermione and Harry, neither of whom had experience with portkey travel.

Mr. Weasley counted down the last five seconds, and they suddenly felt as though they were being squeezed through a tube, the scenery around them in constant flux. And then, quickly as it began, they were unceremoniously spit out at their destination.

As their feet hit the ground, Cedric distinctly heard Hermione's voice as she spoke urgently, "Harry, let - _OUCH!_ " Hermione knocked into Cedric's left side and they went toppling to the ground once more, "-go." She finished dryly.

Cedric was abruptly aware of an extra weight apart from Hermione, but couldn't see what it was from his vantage point. After knocking into Hermione, Harry proceeded to land rather roughly on her, accidentally digging an elbow into her back in the process. She hissed in pain.

"Er, having a bit of trouble breathing here, love." Cedric said in a slightly strained voice.

She shot him a look that clearly said, _'How do you think_ _ **I'm**_ _feeling?'_ before arching her back and twisting in a way that had Cedric seeing spots. His grip on her waist tightened in response and he grit his teeth, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't notice the effect she was currently having on him, "Harry, get off. You're killing us here." She said, her voice tinged with pain.

"Sorry - dizzy," came the dazed response from somewhere further down the way.

Harry clumsily tried to roll off Hermione, still more than just a _little_ dizzy apparently. He managed to roll further up her body and she found herself pressed against Cedric even more intimately than before, painfully aware of Cedric's labored breath tickling her ear. Any current flew out of her mind when another elbow found it's way into her back. She yelped in pain this time, prompting Cedric to flinch, and tighten his hold on her as they both yelled out in warning, _'Harry, elbows!'_ _'Watch it, Potter!'_

They were met with a sympathetic hiss, "Sorry. Really, really sorry, 'Mione."

A second later they could both breath again as Harry finally managed to roll off them. Hermione sighed in relief and rolled off Cedric, landing to the left of him on the grass, gingerly massaging the spot on her back where Harry had elbowed her last.

Cedric breathed deep, giving his oxygen-deprived system some much-needed relief.

"You alright?" He asked, getting up.

She exhaled slowly, "Fine. I'm sure the twins have brought some Bruise-Removal Paste."

He offered her an amused smile and his hand, both of which she accepted gratefully as she nursed her back. He miscalculated the force necessary however, and pulled her up a bit too roughly, sending her crashing against his chest. He smiled sheepishly down at her, his naturally rosy cheeks burning a tad brighter than normal. "Sorry," he mumbled.

She shook her head as she righted herself, smiling at him, "It's alright, no further damage done."

"We've got all the combined grace of a bloody wounded bumblebee today. Hope it's not an omen." Cedric quipped wryly.

Hermione laughed lightly as she straightened her top and jacket, "Oh, I don't believe a word of that."

"Never much believed in omens myself, either," he smiled.

"No, I mean, I think a herd of rampaging hippogriffs would be more accurate." She shot back, casually readjusting her bag.

Cedric stared at her for a full two seconds before he burst out laughing and Hermione dissolved into laughter as well.

The two groups walked to their campsites companionably. Cedric prodigiously stuck to Hermione's side and the pair chatted animatedly the entire trek across the campgrounds. Ron had tried to muscle his way between them a few times but mysteriously disappeared within seconds every time. Ginny's doing, Cedric assumed. Harry was subtler in his pseudo-sentry duty, keeping enough distance between them to give the illusion of privacy, but still close enough to join in their conversation on occasion.

Their conversation came to a sudden halt when the twins began teasing Ginny about her many suitors of late. They watched in amusement as Ginny turned an impressive shade of red, but refused to back down from their challenge. When George mentioned Michael Corner however, all hell broke lose, and Ginny lunged at George, wand bared.

They ran around Harry and Ron, past Hermione and Cedric, Ginny shouting in embarrassed outrage, " _We were_ _ **not**_ _snogging under the Quidditch stands, George, and you know it_!"

Everyone laughed aloud at the siblings' behavior and Cedric stared after them wistfully.

"I've always wanted siblings," he said regretfully, "but mum died when I was pretty young so - do you have siblings?" he asked suddenly.

Hermione felt a familiar grief well up in her chest at his quiet confession, and she shook her head, "No, I'm an only child as well. I absolutely _hated_ it growing up."

"And now?" he asked, curious.

"Now, I've learned that you make your own family," she said, smiling slightly at his perceptiveness, "Harry, the Weasleys... _they're_ my family. Maybe more than my parents have ever been."

"You're lucky. I don't think I've ever met anyone I felt that sort of connection with. Guess I'm not much of a people person," Hermione looked at him questioningly, silently prodding him to continue, "I know I'm popular at school and people like me and all, but I don't actually _have_ any close friends, just acquaintances really. I've never been too good at letting people in, I guess. I only let them get so close and know so much about me, can't help it."

"Well, you don't have to let them in _completely_. There are a lot of things - _big_ things - that I haven't told Harry or Ginny about myself, my life," she confided, "It's more a matter of loyalty, knowing without a doubt that they'll be there for me if I need them, and vice-versa. That's half the battle, really," she shrugged one shoulder.

"Well, when you put it that way..." Cedric said thoughtfully.

"It seems less daunting?" she finished wryly.

"To say the least," Cedric chuckled, and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"Harry! Hermione!" Someone shouted in a thick Irish accent.

They all turned to find Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's former Quidditch Captain, bounding towards them.

"Oliver!" Hermione smiled as Oliver wrapped her in a hug. The water-repellant charm she had used to help them win their last game clearly still fresh in his memory.

Harry and the twins greeted their former captain with slaps on the back and exuberant smiles as he stopped in front of him. He greeted Cedric politely enough and told them excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. He then grabbed Harry and Hermione's arms, excusing them from the rest of the group, and dragged them over to meet his parents' tent a little ways away. Everyone watched Oliver gesticulate wildly as he introduced the pair of them, at one point wrapping his arm around Hermione and pulling her close while Harry looked on in amusement. Until he found himself in the same position, of course.

They chatted with the Woods for a few minutes before returning to their group, who started walking once more when they saw them coming. Hermione smiled sympathetically at Harry's discomfiture at being placed in the spotlight. Cedric hung back to wait for Hermione and watched her say something to Harry, throwing an arm around his shoulders. He smiled at whatever she said, and the tension left his expression. Cedric wondered what she possibly could've said to affect such an immediate change.

When it came time to part ways a few minutes later, Cedric found himself reluctant to leave Hermione's company. He even resorted to slowing his pace in an effort to postpone the inevitable, if only by a few seconds.

"Well, this is us! Amos, Cedric we'll see you two at the game," Mr. Weasley clapped Amos on the back.

"Aye, see you tonight, Arthur! Come on, Ced! Don't worry, you'll see Miss Granger tonight as well!" Amos called.

Cedric flushed again and Hermione strived to keep a straight face for his sake. He grinned at Hermione nonetheless, his gray eyes sparkling warmly as he walked backwards towards his father, "I'll see you later, Hermione."

Hermione returned the grin and gave him a small wave, "Yeah, see you, Cedric."

Almost as soon as she turned back to her group Ginny seized her arm.

"Oh - My - _Bloody_ hell, Hermione!" Ginny fairly shrieked.

This elicited a shriek of surprise from Hermione, a hand flying to her chest.

"Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack! _What!_ " She shouted back.

" _What?_ What, she says! She's just managed to reduce the most handsome and popular boy in the _entire school_ to a puddle of goo with one look, and a few words, and she asks ' _What!_ "

"What are you talking about? I haven't reduced _anyone_ to _anything_ , gooey or otherwise, thank you very much," Hermione said, highly amused by the younger girl's antics.

Ginny only huffed incredulously as Hermione promptly walked off with Harry to help Mr. Weasley with the Muggle money.


	2. Chapter Two: The Fledging

**Chapter Two: The Fledging**

They managed to get the tents up eventually, mostly due to Hermione's directions and Harry's work. Though they had to admit, Mr. Weasley's utter fascination with the mallet and pegs was amusing to bear witness to. Probably as entertaining as witnessing Harry and Hermione's reactions upon stepping into said tents for the first time was for everyone else.

While Mr. Weasley and the twins worked to set up the rest of camp, Harry, Hermione and Ron went in search of the campsite tap. Harry and Hermione found themselves enthralled by what they saw all around them. Witches and Wizards from everywhere around the world putting up their tents with banners supporting their countries and schools, children, some barely toddlers, flying around on toy brooms and performing magic. It was amazing! Even Ron seemed riveted by some of the strange things they saw, momentarily distracting him from lecturing Hermione on Victor Krum's apparently endless virtues.

Lucky for Hermione, the three of them were too distracted by the memory of Archie and his floral nightie on their walk back to camp for Ron to start on Krum again. Instead, he simply looked on in slightly bemused amusement at Harry and Hermione's uncontrollable laughter.

Once she had finally gotten their laughter under control, Hermione turned to her companions, "Did you - oof!"

Someone knocked into her left shoulder, water to slopping to the ground as she wobbled before a hand caught her around the arm in a strong grip to steady her.

"Sorry! I wasn't-"

She looked up and her lips quirked into a wry smile.

"Oh, don't be, I'm quite used to it by now," Hermione said cheekily.

Cedric Diggory's head shot up. He looked momentarily shocked before smiling broadly, "Must be fate."

"If this is fate then we're _really_ screwed," she replied with a laugh.

"Eh, fate is overrated anyway," he said blithely.

Hermione chuckled, "I've always thought so."

"You want to come back with us? We've finished setting up camp and Mr. Weasley's getting some food going," Harry asked companionably, oblivious to Ron's rather obvious attempts to discourage just such an invitation. But Harry found he really couldn't find fault with the Hufflepuff, despite the fact he had beat them in Quidditch the year previous.

Cedric smiled and nodded, "Yeah, definitely, thanks. Dad won't miss me, got distracted almost as soon we finished pitching the tent. He's making the rounds with all these ministry officials here."

"Let's go then."

As they set off towards the Weasley camp they automatically split off into two groups. Harry and Ron were walking a little ways ahead going on about Quidditch and Krum, while Hermione and Cedric followed, the latter relieving the former of the pale of water she had been carrying, and chatting idly.

By the time they arrived back at camp the weather had turned quite warm and Hermione had shed her jacket. Cedric had to remind himself not to stare and failed miserably when the jacket fell away to reveal a slim figure, toned arms and full breasts accentuated by a deep green tank that clung to her like a second skin. She happened to look over at him then, and he quickly averted his gaze, awkwardly clearing his throat. Hermione smiled quizzically to herself, unsure of what to make of his apparent interest in her. It wasn't so much that she minded the attention, she was just unaccustomed to being observed in that way.

"You've been ages," said George when they finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

"Met a few people," said Harry, setting the water down.

"And brought one back," Ron muttered in an undertone, looking around, "Haven't you got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," said Fred.

And so he was. Mr. Weasley was kneeling in front of the fire pit unsuccessfully trying to light a fire, and it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. A collection of burnt and slightly smoking matches littered the ground around him, however, he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

He looked up briefly at their arrival and beamed, "Cedric, my boy, I thought we'd be seeing you again soon! Couldn't stay away, eh?" He exclaimed, all good humor and joviality.

"No, it doesn't seem I can," Cedric smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, stealing a glance at the witch beside him who smiled back quietly. "I hope you don't mind, Mr. Weasley."

"Not at all, my boy, not at all! The more the merrier! Oops!" he said, managing to light a match and then promptly dropping it in surprise.

"Here, Mr. Weasley, let me," Hermione said kindly, though she and the rest of the group were fighting laughter. She tossed her jacket on the picnic table and gently took the box of matches from him and showed him how to do it properly, though it was another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything.

Fortunately, there was no shortage of entertainment in the meantime. The group were all sat around the front of the tents, spread out on the picnic table and the makeshift log seats surrounding the fire pit. They watched as more tents popped up all around them while harried Ministry officials ran up and down the unofficial thoroughfare, greeting Mr. Weasley as they passed.

Cedric and Hermione had settled in quite comfortably side by side on one of the log seats by the fire. They alternated between listening to Mr. Weasley and Cedric quietly filling Hermione in on other pieces of information about a few passing people.

Before long, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly, bristling at a passing Auror that had brushed past him in a hurry. "That department is just a load of rowdy thugs, no respect for authority! You know, Mr. Crouch says-"

The Weasleys and Harry made various sounds of disappointment in response to the new arrival. Even Cedric groaned quietly at the sound of Percy's voice, and Hermione laughed silently at their reaction. She caught Cedric's eye surreptitiously and they laughed as Percy abandoned his lunch every few seconds in order to jump up and greet passing Ministry officials, at one point springing up so suddenly his plate nearly landed in the fire.

They were all chatting amiably and ignoring Percy when Mr. Weasley himself jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them. "Ah, Ludo!" he said. "The man of the moment! It's thanks to him we've got these fantastic tickets!"

The group all looked at the man approaching. His bumblebee striped Quidditch robes made him stick out almost as much as Archie and his floral nightdress. He had an enormous picture of a wasp was embroidered across his chest and the bulky build of that told of a once strapping man now slightly weathered by age. His large blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion however, leant him the appearance of an overgrown schoolboy.

"Hello!" Bagman called happily. He had a jaunty spring in his step, looking almost as though he might start skipping at any moment, obviously in a state of great excitement.

"Arthur," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day for it, eh? Perfect! Not a cloud in the sky…and not one hiccough in the arrangements…Hardly anything for me to do but enjoy the day really!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, jabbing their fingers at some sort of fire that was sending bright pink sparks into the air in the distance. They all exchanged discreet glances of mingled amusement and concern at Bagman's obliviousness. Amusement won over when Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched.

"Ah - right," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "well, you know my lot, Percy - he's just started at the Ministry - Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, Ron and Ginny. And these are their friends, Hermione Granger, Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter."

Bagman did a small double take at heard Harry's name, but refrained from openly gawking, for which Harry was immensely grateful.

"Marvelous, marvelous! Now, what do you say, Arthur, fancy a flutter on the match?" he asked eagerly, jingling what sounded like a large amount of gold in the pockets of his robes.

"Oh go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see...a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself quickly. "Very well, very well...any other takers?"

"Oh, well, they're a bit young to be gambling, Ludo," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like -"

"We'll bet thirty-eight Galleons, ten Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins, but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

Hermione nearly groaned when Fred and George bet all their savings on a million-to-one odds, but bit her tongue. She saw Cedric wince when they shook on it with Bagman, and figured he was likely thinking along the same lines.

Bagman, Hermione decided, was more apt to be a Quidditch team manager or trainer rather than a Ministry official. He was unnervingly oblivious to the _hiccoughs_ around him. Not to mention he seemed a bit too fond of gambling.

Then, Bagman made the mistake of mentioning Barty Crouch, at which the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione all groaned, much to Cedric's confusion. It soon became all too clear however.

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of disapproval and positively wriggling with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred languages, you know! Mermish and Gobbledegook, Troll…"

"Please, _anyone_ can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely foul look.

"What of Bertha Jorkins, Ludo? Any news on her yet?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman plopped himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a peep," he said comfortably. "Memory like a leaky cauldron that one! Probably got turned around and ended up in Australia instead of Albania! She'll probably turn up in the office sometime in October thinking it's still July."

"Don't you think it might be time to send someone out to look for her?" Mr. Weasley offered tentatively.

"How long has she been missing?" Hermione whispered to Cedric.

"Almost two months now." Cedric whispered back. "She really is prone to getting lost though, not surprised no one's gone looking yet."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at that, wondering what to think of that logic.

"Barty keeps saying that," Bagman's eyes widened innocently at Arthur's suggestion, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment."

Just then, Barty Crouch himself Apparated at their fireside. Hermione could immediately see why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great supporter of following the rules and Mr. Crouch had adhered to the rule about Muggle dressing so rigorously he might have passed as a barrister in his full suit and tie.

"Barty! Pull up a patch of grass," said Ludo exuberantly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice.

"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly. "Can I get you a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George sputtered into their cups. Percy was suddenly very interested in the kettle. The others all looked ready to burst with laughter and Hermione quickly disguised her laughter with a cough and bit her lip to keep another laugh from escaping.

"Keeping busy then, Barty?" asked Bagman breezily.

"Fairly," said Mr. Crouch dryly.

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is all over?" said Mr. Weasley.

Ludo Bagman looked appalled.

"Glad! Why, I don't know when I've had more fun! Still, we've got plenty to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh?"

"Ludo, the Bulgarians are waiting," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

"What was Bagman talking about, Dad?" said Fred at once.

"You'll find out soon enough," said Mr. Weasley, smiling.

" _That_ is classified information, Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it," said Percy stiffly.

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.

—

A sense of excitement rose like a buzzing swarm over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the air itself seemed to be vibrating with anticipation and the group were surprised to hear the opening chords to a particularly loud rock song emanating from their campsite.

Everybody looked over in bewilderment at its source. The twins had set up a muggle stereo just outside the tent and discreetly amplified its sound using a _Sonorus Charm_. Hermione doubted the Ministry officials would ever catch on considering they've probably never seen such a device in their lives.

The music could be heard through the entire campground and possibly beyond by Hermione's reckoning. It was almost dusk and it seemed everyone's pent up excitement had found a new outlet. Witches and wizards everywhere on the campgrounds had begun to dance almost as violently as the twins were and Hermione suddenly recognized the song. She shouted over at the Weasley twins once they were closer, " _How on_ _ **earth**_ _do you two know The Beastie Boys!_ "

Fred danced his way over to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her up from her spot beside Cedric and, twirling her around, " _Have you forgotten, my dear Hermione..._ "

George passed Ginny off to Fred and caught Hermione mid-twirl and spun her around once more, " _That our father is rather obsessed with the muggle world!_ "

" _It's embarrassing enough sometimes, I'll admit! But it does have its perks!_ " Fred yelled as he Ginny danced recklessly.

Hermione laughed as George spun her away and into Harry's awaiting arms. He dipped her dramatically at one point, looking marvelously out of place with the music and they both roared with laughter.

Cedric watched her dance with the twins, one of whom then spun her into Potter's arms. She was a sight to behold. Her light brown hair fanned around her as she danced. He found himself longing to hold her in his arms once more.

She threw her head back as she and Potter laughed heartily when he dipped her low in the middle of the song and Cedric thought he could've fallen in love with her then and there. He couldn't remember ever feeling this happy before. Something inside him lit up when he saw her, he felt lighter, better, like he could do anything, _be_ anyone when he was with her. He didn't feel he had to worry about being perfect, about keeping his cool and laid back facade up when she was around, he could just _be._ It was liberating. She was his freedom.

The song was reaching its end and Cedric edged his way to her side as the song changed and she spun out of Harry's arms. He caught her easily about the waist and smiled at her surprised yet pleased expression.

The song changed and Hermione found herself in a pair of now _very_ familiar arms. She smiled up at Cedric as he linked their hands and danced, pulling each other here and there, spinning and brushing against each other intimately and laughing with reckless abandon while the Weasleys and Harry all watched surreptitiously, silently enthralled by the couple. Harry and Ron had the same thought.

 _Maybe it_ _ **was**_ _fate._

The song ended abruptly and with a literal bang. The muggle boom box whirred pathetically for a few seconds before emitting a high-pitched noise and blowing apart in front of the tent. Everyone in the vicinity ducked as parts of the radio went flying. Cedric's Seeker reflexes kicked in almost immediately as he tucked Hermione into his chest and crouching low to avoid the debris.

Fred and George looked gave each other guilty, almost panicked looks as the rest of them looked on in shock. As soon as they spotted Mr. Weasley walking back over they fairly lunged to cover up the remains of the radio and shoved it all hastily into the tent.

As soon as night began to creep over the sky, the final remnants of pretense disappeared and the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable. There were now blatant signs of magic everywhere. Salesmen appeared every few feet, pushing carts full of extraordinary goods. From luminescent rosettes thats squealed the names of the players, to tiny models of Firebolts that whizzed about, and miniature figures of the players that strolled about, preening.

"Been looking forward to this all summer, saved all my pocket money," Ron told Harry as they strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also guiltily bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

"Wow, look at these!" said Harry, picking up a pair of odd looking binoculars.

"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay...slow everything down...and they flash a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each."

Ron looked positively devistated, glancing down at his shamrock and miniature figure in utter misery. Hermione smiled with a shake of her head and a subtle eye roll.

"I _told_ you not to get that stupid figure," she said, paying for two pairs of omnioculars and handing him a pair, sporting a look that brooked no argument.

Ron seemed to sense this and accepted the omnioculars with a sheepish grin and, their money bags considerably lighter, they went back to the tents where all but Fred and George were sporting green rosettes.

A deep, booming gong echoed down from somewhere beyond the woods and green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.

"It's time!" said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them.


	3. Chapter Three: All Fun and Games

**Chapter Three: All Fun and Games...**

They clutched their purchases as Mr. Weasley lead the way into the wood. The sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing, bounced off the trees and echoed around them. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious.

The greater part of their group's enthusiasm left Hermione, Cedric and Ginny to follow at a distance. The trio trailed behind them at a leisurely pace, taking in the growing energy of the crowd and sticking close together to avoid getting separated.

"Shouldn't we wait for your father? Ack!" Hermione had to shout to be heard and narrowly avoided getting shoved aside by a particularly burly and rabid Bulgarian fan. Cedric put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side and scowled after the burly Bulgarian.

"Nah, he'll find his way to the stadium eventually," Cedric shouted back. He felt her nod against his shoulder, and Cedric noted with no small measure of pleasure and relief that she had not pull away from him.

The crowd behind them was beginning to get more raucous and Hermione pulled away from Cedric's side, making sure to keep a firm grasp on his arm, to call over her shoulder, "Ginny!"

Ginny was beginning to have to struggle against the oncoming crowds and Hermione managed to grab hold of her jacket sleeve and pull her out from between a haggard looking old wizard and a gangly fellow in his thirties with a weathered face that was staring at Ginny, and now Hermione, with a less than innocent gleam in his eye.

Hermione met the man's lecherous gaze with a cold glare that must've looked quite dangerous because the man recoiled slightly and dropped his gaze to the ground. The girls linked their arms together tightly and Hermione pulled herself closer Cedric's side once again. She looked over at Ginny in concern, "Are you alright? He didn't try anything did he?"

Cedric's head whipped around to her so suddenly he was sure he'd cracked something. "Did who try what?" he asked, looking worried.

"Just some slimy git looking for a shag is all," Hermione said disgustedly.

"More like a threesome, the way he was looking at you," Ginny continued darkly, unable to hold back a shudder.

Cedric's arm tightened around Hermione's shoulders, all of them casting a shrewd glance at the herds of people milling around them.

"Alright, I think we're almost to the pitch, let's just stick close together. _Don't_ get separated." Cedric said firmly.

"Aye, Captain," Hermione retorted with a cheeky grin that injected levity back into the trio.

They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and laughing loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though they could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, Hermione could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it. There, they found the rest of the Weasleys and Harry waiting for them.

"Magnificent, isn't it? The Ministry's been working on it all year, had quite a job of hiding _this_ from Muggles," said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on their faces, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Straight upstairs and as high as you can go, Arthur."

Ginny groaned at that and Cedric and Hermione couldn't help but smile at the look of dread that crossed her face.

They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. By the time they reached the top of the staircase the rest of the crowd had disappeared into the lower section. They all filed into the top box where about twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows and looked down onto the scene below them in wonder.

Perched high between the goalposts, they could see a hundred thousand witches and wizards taking their places in the stands, which rose in levels around the huge, oval field. The air itself seemed suffused with a mysterious golden light that seemed to radiate from the stadium itself and the pitch looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. Their eyes were glued, however, to the gigantic blackboard directly opposite them that had advertisements gold writing dashing across it and then disappearing.

Harry tore his eyes away from the sign and looked around to see who else was sharing the box with them. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature had its face hidden in its hands, yet those big, bat-like ears were oddly familiar to Harry.

"Dobby?" said Harry incredulously.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby — it was, however, unmistakably a house-elf. It seemed unperturbed by Harry's exclamation however, and simply released a frightened wail as it gave the edge of the box a frightened look before hiding her eyes completely again. Harry turned back to the others.

"So that's a house-elf?" Ron muttered. "Weird, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," Harry assured him.

Cedric and Hermione exchangesilent looks of incredulity, smiling slightly. The little creature was strange looking to be sure, and its behavior baffling, leaving them to wonder just what Debby was like.

Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium. Ginny, meanwhile, was idly skimming through the velvet-covered, tasseled program.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,' what's that then?" She asked.

"Ooh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land to put on a show before the match."

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley shook hands with obviously influential wizards, Percy jumping to his feet beside him so often that he looked as though he were performing some sort of bizarre dance. When Cornelius Fudge himself arrived, Percy threw a jealous look at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend, shaking Harry's hand in a fatherly manner and asking how he was before introducing him to the wizards on either side of him.

"Ah, there you are Lucius!" Fudge exclaimed.

Hermione stopped mid-sentence and turned her attention to Fudge, taking Cedric by surprise and prompting him to do the same. His jaw set almost defensively at the sight of the Malfoy family edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind the twins.

Cedric's hand went to Hermione's arm, whether in an instinctive show of protection or solidarity, she wasn't sure.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you?"

"Oh, counting the minutes until someone catches that bloody snitch to be frank," he said in an undertone before clearing his throat and plastering on a smile, "Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — Ob — Mr. — well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

There was a strained silence as Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy fixed each other with cold glares and Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione vividly recalled the last time they had met face-to-face: Flourish and Blotts bookshop when they had all but dueled it out. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "Did you have to sell your house to get seats in the Top Box? I wouldn't have thought it'd fetched this much."

Fudge, who wasn't listening simply prattled on, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How — how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes returned to Hermione, who returned his glared coldly. His calculating gaze traveled across her face then over to Cedric, who's gray eyes had gone quite flinty, then down to where his hand was resting on Hermione's arm. They all knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare utter a word against the blood-traitors before him. He nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry, Ron, and Hermione a contemptuous look, then settled himself between his parents.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as he, Harry, Hermione and Cedric turned to face the field again.

A few minutes later Mr. Diggory appeared in the Top Box and, upon spotting his son and Hermione sitting beside each other conversing animatedly remarked quietly to Arthur, "Knew he'd end up with your lot. He seems very taken with Miss Granger, doesn't he? I don't think I've seen him quite this happy since - Well, not for some time. Not about anything other than Quidditch that is."

"Yes, and it seems the feeling is mutual," Arthur said with a small smile.

The next moment, Ludo Bagman had charged into the box to welcome the crowd rambunctiously.

The crowd screamed and clapped wildly. Thousands of flags waved in the wind, their national anthems clashing together with the rest of the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message and now displayed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"Now, allow me to introduce — the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, a solid block of scarlet, roared its support.

"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat as he quickly polished his glassed on his robes. "Aaah! _Veela!_ "

"What are veel — ?"

"Oh, boy," Hermione and Ginny said in unison and Mr. Diggory smiled at them amusedly from behind them.

"'Oh, boy', indeed," he said with a quiet laugh.

The boys glanced down at the pitch and saw a group of women gathered there. Cedric looked over at the three of them in confusion, "Am I missing something?"

He had his answer when the veela started dancing and every bloke around them began to act very strangely indeed. They seemed to go into a trance, smiling mindlessly, and then...

"Harry! Get down!"

Cedric's eyes snapped to Hermione in confusion and shot out of his seat along with her in alarm. Harry was standing up, one of his legs resting on the wall of the box, looking ready to take a flying leap out of the top box. Hermione had sprung out of her seat and caught him around the middle to pull him back into his seat and Cedric jumped up to help her with the now struggling boy.

Beside them, Mr. Weasley and Ginny were faced with a similar struggle with Ron, who was poised in a way that looked as though he were about to dive off of a springboard. They were having a hell of a time of it, too. Ron was struggling twice as much as Harry and had a good five inches and twenty pounds on him as well. When Ron managed to elbow Mr. Weasley in the stomach, Mr. Diggory intervened and, between the three of them, pinned Ron back into his seat.

The music stopped. Harry and Ron stopped struggling, though they still had rather vacant looks on their faces. Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go.

The sudden lack of Harry's opposing momentum sent Cedric and Hermione stumbling back into a seat _._ Cedric fell into Hermione's chair while the girl in question landed squarely in his lap as Harry tumbled at their feet.

"How many more times are we going to end in some variation of this position today?" Cedric asked with a breathless laugh.

"I don't know, but if it keeps up, I'll be expecting dinner," Hermione replied wryly as she got off him. Cedric chuckled lightly as they helped a still dazed Harry to feet.

Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly picking off and shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling in amusement, leaned over and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland's had their say."

"Huh?" said Ron, staring openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

Hermione laughed and easily tugged Harry back into his seat beside her, "Oh, honestly."

"Oi, how come _you_ weren't affected!" George shouted over at Cedric. Hermione looked over at him curiously as well.

Cedric looked perplexed and shrugged, "Dunno!"

"Veela don't affect those who have formed an attachment to someone!" Amos shouted with a pointed look toward Hermione.

"Three guesses who!" Ginny said archly, and there was no doubt who she was referring to.

Hermione smiled and shook her head as if to dismiss Ginny's romantic notions, yet Cedric made no attempt to deny the obvious insinuation and looked over at her seriously, "Only need one."

She looked over at him in surprise, but he only smiled and took her hand. She smiled softly back at him, that curious look back in her eye.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air...for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

A great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though witnessing a fireworks display. The balls of light merged, forming an immense, shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and soared over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it —

"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock and risking a black eye, they realized that it was actually made up of thousands of tiny bearded men with red vests, each carrying a lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom had started brawling and rummaging around under their chairs to claim the gold.

A moment later the two teams were introduced, the Quaffle was thrown and the game began.

Hours later, the scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to comprehend what had just happened. Then, slowly, as a storm rolling across a loch, the thunder from the Ireland supporters erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be stunned by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I — I don't think anyone could have predicted this!"

"Vell, ve fought bravely," sighed a gloomy voice behind them. They looked around at the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You — you speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me _mime_ everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister with a shrug. And with that, he turned to walk out of the box.


	4. Chapter Four: A Hard Day's Night

**Chapter Four: A Hard Day's Night**

Hermione and Cedric filed out of the Top Box, trailing behind Mr. Weasley and the twins. As they clambered back down the massive stands, they could hear Mr. Weasley warning Fred and George.

"Whatever you do, _don_ ' _t_ let Molly find out you've been gambling," he groaned worriedly, "Oh, I'd never hear the end of it if she found out I'd let you two gamble away your savings!"

"You seem to be forgetting one small, but important detail, dad…" George said jovially.

"…we won!" the twins rejoined cheerfully, pumping their fists into the air.

Mr. Weasley chuckled a little humorlessly, but couldn't help but smile at their exuberance , "Yes, well, I don't think Molly would be any more pleased about _that_ , so _keep it quiet_."

"Oh, not to worry, Dad," said Fred mysteriously, a grin permanently painted across his face, "we've got big plans for this. Last thing we want's for it to be confiscated."

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he wanted to ask just what their big plans were, but seemed to decide that he didn't want to know. _Best not become an accomplice_ , he thought wryly.

The twins shared a conspiratorial look before Fred turned and caught Hermione's eye, shooting her a quick wink.

Hermione chuckled quietly and shook her head in response.

"What on earth was that about?" a bewildered Cedric asked from beside her.

"They've been working on opening their own joke shop since last year, but Mrs. Weasley's dead set against it." Hermione said in an undertone. "She confiscated all their inventions and order forms this morning. They'll probably be able to resurrect _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_ with that money. Anyway, I _may_ have offered to help with their scheme."

Cedric groaned.

"What?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Nothing. I'm just thinking of the all traumatized First Years I'm gonna have on my hands over the next three years."

Hermione laughed at his miserable expression, "Oh, they'll be alright! The twins are many things, but malicious is not one of them — maybe, a little… _misguided_ sometimes."

Cedric shot her an in incredulous look, but seemed to consider it, "That's fair, I guess."

His companion rolled her eyes and laughed at his petulance.

"You laugh, but just imagine reaching for your wand in Charms only to find a bloody great rat instead!" He cried, gesticulating slightly.

Hermione was unmoved and smirked and shook her head, "Serves you right for leaving your wand unattended."

"Oi! Salt in the wound!" Cedric exclaimed petulantly.

"Because I'm right?" She teased.

"Yes," Cedric sighed.

"Well, count yourself lucky. I could tell you a story involving a teddy bear and a spider that would rank higher on the trauma scale." She laughed, knocking shoulders with him lightly.

"Oh Merlin, I don't think I want to know." Cedric chuckled, his face splitting into a wry grin.

—-

Once they got caught up in the crowds flooding out of the stadium, boisterous singing wafting toward them on the cool night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path. It was near midnight by the time they finally reached their tents and nobody felt like sleeping at all, and with the noise of everyone's celebrations on their doorstep, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all stay up a while longer.

Music was blaring from every direction and laughter echoed through the wood. Cedric happily stayed behind with the Weasley group while his father went off with Crouch and Bagman somewhere.

They retreated into the relative quiet of the tent, though the celebratory music and cheering was only muffled. Mr. Weasley served them each a large mug of hot chocolate, thick and steaming, and they all spread out around living room and kitchen, talking excitedly about the game. The boys and Ginny began analyzing the players' moves and formations, arguing over which team played more creatively. Hermione smiled wryly as Ron and Cedric started debating Krum's value to the team. No matter how long she lived in the Wizarding or how many Quidditch games she attended, she doubted she would ever have enough passion for the game to debate such things.

Hermione's train of thought was derailed as her mind registered the ominous change that had suddenly taken place outside. She felt her body go rigid and recognized the familiar feeling of adrenaline rush through her veins, her blood running cold.

She barely registered that everyone else had fallen silent and was listening as well. The singing had stopped, replaced by screams and heavy footsteps, and it was coming closer, like a tidal wave, until it was at their door.

Hermione grit her teeth and forced a deep breath into her lungs. Suddenly, she was hyper aware of every little thing around her. She could feel Cedric's left hand clasped around her wrist, as if ready to pull her to her feet, wand drawn, his body as tense as hers. She could hear his breath coming in short, quick puffs as he apparently fought off the same fight or flight reaction. She then became aware that she had abandoned her mug of cocoa at some point and drawn her wand as well, while her other hand had reached for her bag. Her mind finally registered that they were not the only ones on alert. The older members of their group had similarly drawn their wands, and Mr. Weasley was moving to the tent's entrance.

That seemed to be the signal for everyone. They all moved with him as one, jumping up from their comfortable perches on the stools and chairs throughout the tent. But Mr. Weasley was having none of that.

"Stay here," he said sternly, with an especially sharp look at Hermione, Ron and Harry, " _all_ of you."

As soon as he left the tent an explosion echoed from nearby and Harry made to dash outside.

Hermione was at his side in a second, roughly grabbing his arm and hissed in warning, " _Wait!_ "

Mr. Weasley reentered the tent.

"Everybody outside now!" he said urgently. "Go! Come on!"

The look on his face, mingled fear and panic, caused any questions they had to evaporate.

The large group of eleven hurried out of the tent. Harry and Mr. Weasley were the first out the door, Ron hot on their heels. Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm, seeing her rooted to the spot and pulled the petrified younger girl with her leaving Cedric to follow them.

What greeted them was chaos. Absolute chaos. They were being pushed and shoved by the herds of people that were running into the wood. _Fleeing_ , Hermione realized with a shot of cold dread. She clutched Ginny close to her side, and started violently when Cedric wrapped an arm around her to keep from getting separated. There was something steadily moving toward them, it was emitting flashes of light and noises like gunshots. Loud jeers and roars of drunken laughter drifted toward them; suddenly a bright burst of light allowed them to discern the scene before them. Their sorrow was complete.

There was a crowd of tightly packed wizards, their wands pointed skyward as they levitated a four bodies above them. The bodies were contorting gruesomely, an unknown spell being cast on them as the others kept them levitated. Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly and then widened in shock as she recognized the bodies as those belonging to the Roberts family whom they had met earlier that day. Her heart quickened as she took in the appearance of the wizards responsible their torment. Masked and hooded, with billowing black cloaks.

"It can't be..." Cedric whispered, looking at them disbelievingly from beside her.

"Death Eaters," Hermione finished in horror.

Tents crumpled and fell as the growing crowd approached. The screaming grew louder.

"This is sick," Ron muttered hoarsely, watching the smallest figure, a little girl no more than 7, spinning like a top above them, her head flopping limply from side to side.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his sleeves. "Get to the wood and stick together! I'll come and find you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting toward the oncoming marchers and Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," said Cedric, grabbing Hermione's hand and began pulling her toward the wood at a run. Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins followed. They all looked back when they reached the tree line. They could see the Ministry wizards trying to break through the group of hooded wizards without success.

The lanterns that had lit the wooded path earlier had long been extinguished. Without them, the wood was plunged into an eerie darkness. Hermione could could feel, but not quite see the dark figures blundering in between the trees,. She could hear children crying and anxious cries echoing all around them in the frigid night and feel herself being pushed hither and thither by faceless people as she held tight to Cedric's hand. Then she heard the familiar sound of Ginny voice as she yelped in pain.

"Ginny?" Hermione called out, stopping abruptly.

"What's happened?" Cedric asked.

"Ginny, where are you?" Hermione called. "Oh, this is ridiculous - _Lumos_!"

Light sprung form her wand and she directed it's beam down the path. Ginny was lying on her back, clutching at her shoulder.

"Someone knocked into me," she groaned painfully as Hermione helped her up.

"Finally where you belong then, Weasley," said a drawling voice from behind them.

Ginny, Hermione and Cedric turned sharply, wands at the ready. Draco Malfoy was perched alone on a low hanging branch nearby, looking utterly relaxed.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Ginny spat venomously, holding her sore arm close to her body.

"Language, Weasley," said Malfoy, his sneer growing. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't want _her_ spotted, would you?"

He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb carried over from the campsite, a flash of red light momentarily lit the trees around them.

"And just what the hell's that supposed to mean?" Cedric growled menacingly.

Malfoy sneered in Cedric's direction before returning his gaze to Hermione, "I see you've got a new guard dog, Granger."

"Careful Malfoy, I'm getting the strong urge to _punch_ you again," Hermione said coolly.

Malfoy glowered, but backed off, looking over at Cedric as if he were dim, "They're hunting _Muggles_ , Diggory."

"Hermione's a witch! Or do you need a little reminder of that, Malfoy?" Ginny snarled.

"Whatever you say. If you think they don't know a _Mudblood_ when they see one…" Malfoy grinned maliciously.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Cedric growled, stalking towards Malfoy menacingly.

Ginny smirked as she watched Malfoy's eyes widen momentarily in fear.

"Cedric, _don't_ ," Hermione hissed only for him to hear, seizing his arm as she stepped in front of him to restrain him. "If we're right about who's out there, we need to get out of here."

Cedric stayed rooted to the spot.

"Come on," said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, "let's go find the others."

"Keep that pretty little head of yours down, Granger," sneered Malfoy.

" _Come on_ ," Hermione repeated, pulling Cedric and Ginny back up the path again, tugging particularly hard at Cedric's arm when he spun around to face Malfoy again.

—-

Fred, George, Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders in the pitch dark.

"They can't have gone far," said Cedric, lighting his wand as they squinted up the path. Ginny did the same.

A rustling noise nearby made all three of them jump and Cedric stepped slightly in front of Hermione and Ginny. A familiar looking house-elf was struggling out of a clump of bushes as if some unseen force was pulling her by the scruff of her neck. She disappeared into the trees, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

"Let's keep moving," said Cedric, standing tensely beside Hermione, looking ready to pounce.

They followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Harry, Ron and the others. They passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold, seemingly unconcerned by the chaos of the night. As they moved down the path they spotted a patch of silvery light, and when they peered through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful veela standing in a clearing. They were surrounded by a mass of young wizards, all boasting about progressively wild accomplishments very loudly.

As they drew closer they heard a familiar voice yelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach the Moon?"

Hermione peered through the crowd toward its source and heaved a sigh of relief. Standing a little ways away from the veela, were Harry and Ron. The latter still energetically spouting tall tales at the beautiful women.

" _Harry, Ron!_ " shouted Hermione, as they reached them.

Harry turned and launched himself at Hermione, "Finally! Are you all alright? You haven't seen my wand have you?"

"We're alright, but we should keep moving."

Harry grabbed Ron firmly by the arms, wheeled him around, and marched him away, Cedric and Hermione leading the way.

"Wait, what do you mean have we seen your wand?"

"I've lost it. I must've dropped it somewhere while we were running or something."

"You're kidding!" Cedric exclaimed.

"Oh, Harry! I've told you to be more careful about where you keep it," Hermione moaned.

"I know, I know." They were in the very heart of the wood and seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off."

Ron, leading the way into a small clearing and sitting down on the first patch of dry grass he found.

Hermione wandered over, looking around the clearing cautiously before dropping down beside him. Cedric was listening for noise from the campsite.

"It's so quiet. Maybe it's over," he said, sitting beside Hermione and Ron on the ground.

Silence reigned until Hermione suddenly looked over her shoulder. Cedric, Harry, Ginny and Ron looked around, too. It sounded like someone was staggering toward them. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven footfalls behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" called Harry.

There was silence. Cedric, Hermione and Harry got to their feet and peered into the dark. It was too dark to see very far, but they could sense somebody standing just beyond the reach of their vision.

"Who's there?" Cedric shouted.

And then, without warning, the silence was shattered by a voice that uttered what sounded like a spell. Not in a panicked voice, but in a tone almost brutally calm in light of the current situation.

" _MORSMORDRE!_ "

Something green and glittering shot out of the darkness and up into the dark sky.

"What the — ?" gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

They watched it rise higher and higher before finally taking the shape of a sickly green skull, a snake slithering out of its mouth.

Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with screams. Cedric and Hermione inhaled sharply and swore.

"Who's there?" Harry called.

"Harry, come on, move!" Hermione had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward. Cedric was trying to tug her and Ginny along in turn.

"What's the matter?" Harry said, startled to see that they were both terrified.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry," Hermione said, pulling him as hard as she could. "It's Voldemort's sign!"

" _Voldemort_ ' _s_ — ?"

"Harry, _move_!"

Harry finally turned and the five of them started across the clearing, but before they had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

Cedric whirled around and registered one fact: Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny.

Without pausing to think, he yelled, "DOWN!"

Hermione seized Ginny and yanked her down. Cedric did the same to Harry and did his best to shield Hermione, tucking her against his chest protectively, nearly lying atop her on the damp ground.

The roared of twenty voices casting a stunning spell echoed in their ears. There was a blinding series of flashes and it felt as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising her head a fraction of an inch, Hermione saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness —

"Stop!" someone yelled. "STOP! _That_ ' _s my son!_ "

The quasi-wind stopped, and they all raised their heads cautiously. The wizard in front of them had lowered his wand. Hermione rolled over and saw Mr. Diggory running toward them, looking terrified, Mr. Weasley not far behind.

"Cedric — Hermione," his voice sounded shaky, "Ron — Harry — Ginny are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Amos," said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. They all got to their feet to face them. Mr. Crouch's face looked pinched with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his dark eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do _that_!" said Harry, gesturing up at the skull, still completely bemused at the situation.

"We didn't _do_ anything!" said Cedric, looking indignantly at his father. "What did you go and attack us for?"

"Do not lie!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was pointing directly at Cedric, and his eyes were bulging. He looked almost mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

Hermione's patience snapped and she glared angrily Mr. Crouch, taking a step closer to Cedric's side, "He's not _lying!_ None of us conjure it!"

"Where did the Mark come from, you lot?" said Mr. Weasley, still breathless.

"Over there," said Hermione, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice.

"We heard someone moving behind the trees...they shouted something - couldn't see who though." Cedric added.

"Our Stunners went right through there. Maybe we got them." Mr. Diggory said.

"Dad, be careful!" Cedric shouted as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness.

Mr. Crouch, however, still had his wand trained on him and Hermione, and he was looking mad as ever, veins protruding on his neck, a wild look in his eyes. Ron, Harry and Ginny were eyeing his unsteady wand hand apprehensively, but she and Cedric stood their ground, regarding him coldly.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Lower your _bloody_ wand before you take someone's eye out," Cedric snapped irritably.

At that moment, they heard Mr. Diggory shout.

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

They heard Mr. Diggory's footsteps as they all reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. They recognized the creature at once. A house-elf. The same terrified house-elf they had encountered in the Top Box and then later in the wood.

"This can't —," Mr. Crouch said jerkily. "No —" He moved around Mr. Diggory and stalked off toward where they had found the little creature.

Hermione was taken aback at his strange reaction. She looked over at Cedric, hoping he could shed light on it.

"No point, Mr. Crouch," Mr. Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

Mr. Diggory looked over at Mr. Weasley, "Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at the unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf. I mean to say..."

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizards' spell, it requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mr. Diggory, "and she _had_ a wand. Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

He raised his own wand and pointed it at the house-elf to revive her.

The creature's huge round eyes blinked slowly, in a confused sort of way. Seeing the group of silent and imposing wizards surrounding her was enough to elicit the beginnings of tears as she sat up shakily,.

"Winky, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago, as you can see," said Mr. Diggory. "You were found moments later, beneath it. An explanation, please!"

"I — I — I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" shouted Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. The wand caught the green light from the skull above and Harry's eyes widened.

"Hey — that's mine!" he said.

Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

"Excuse me?" said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.

"That's my wand!" said Harry. "I thought I lost it!"

"So then," said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky. "You found this wand, eh? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I's not doing magic, sir!" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her bulbous nose.

"It wasn't her, dad!" Cedric suddenly burst, feeling terribly sorry for the obviously frightened, shaking house-elf in front of them.

"Cedric's right. Winky's got a squeaky little voice and the voice we heard in the wood _definitely_ belonged to a man. It didn't sound _anything_ like Winky," Hermione said with certainty, feeling just as awful for the strange little creature.

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Ron.

"Well, we can find out easily enough," Mr. Diggory said easily. He was inclined to believe his son and his friends, but he wouldn't be doing his job if he didn't investigate thoroughly. He raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Harry's. " _Prior Incantato!_ " roared Mr. Diggory.

They flinched as a miniature version of the Dark Mark erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was only a shade of the skull above them.

"Well," Mr. Diggory sighed, looking unimpressed. "As the kids said, it wasn't Winky's voice they heard out there. And I for one believe them. Arthur?"

"Quite right, Amos. She might've picked it up anywhere...Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he had shouted at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel violently. "There, sir..." she whispered, "…in the trees —"

"They could have Disapparated right after conjuring it and left Harry's wand behind. Clever not using their own wand. Winky just had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"Amos," said Mr. Crouch curtly, "I ask you to allow me to deal with Winky. You may be assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

Mr. Diggory nodded grudgingly, looking as though he didn't think much of the idea at all, thank you very much.

Winky looked up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please..."

"This means clothes." Mr. Crouch stared back coldly, not an ounce of pity in his gaze, grasping Winky by the arm and Disapparating away, Winky's sobs cut off.

There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can — if Harry could have it back, please —"

"Ah! Of course," Mr. Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it. "Arthur, I've got to stick 'round here, help get things under control. Would you mind terribly taking Cedric back with you? I won't be done for hours and he must be about ready to drop, poor lad. They probably all are."

It was true. Now that the excitement had passed and the adrenaline had run its course, they all felt dead on their feet.

"Of course, Amos. No problem at all. We've got plenty of room," Mr. Weasley said without hesitation.

Mr. Diggory nodded his thanks and put on a hand on Cedric's arm, "Ced, why don't you head back to the campsite with Hermione and the others? I'm going to be here a while," he said quietly.

Cedric nodded sleepily, "Right. I'll see in the morning, dad."

"Come along, you lot," Mr. Weasley said quietly. They followed him out of the clearing silently. "I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the twins?"

"We don't know, we lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, what's going on? Why was everyone so worried about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the campsite," said Mr. Weasley tensely.

But when they reached the edge of the wood, their path was blocked. A crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was gathered there. When they saw Mr. Weasley approaching, they surged forward.

"What's happened?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur — it's not — it's not _Him_ is it?"

"Of course it's not _Him_ ," said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now, please, excuse me, we want to get to bed."

He led the group through the crowd and back to the campsite. Everything was too quiet now. Some of the demolished tents were still smoking and only one of their tents made it through the commotion intact. The other had been incinerated and reduced to a pile of ashes. Hermione was suddenly immensely grateful she had had the presence of mind to take her bag with her when they had fled earlier.

Charlie's head poked out of the remaining tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred and George made it back, but the others —"

"They're alright. They're here," said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Cedric entered after him.

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand nearby, but we don't know who conjured the Mark."

" _What?_ " said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together.

"Harry's wand?" said Fred.

"Mr. Crouch's elf?" said Percy, sounding scandalized.

With some help from Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Cedric, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the wood. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly on Mr. Crouch's behalf and they were far too tired to even _attempt_ to hold back their groans of annoyance.

"Look, can someone just explain the skull thing?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't doing anything or hurting anyone…What's the big deal?"

"I told you, it's Voldemort's symbol, Ron," said Hermione, before anyone else could answer, and all but she and Harry flinched at the name.

"And it hasn't been seen in almost thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked...it was almost like seeing _You-Know-Who_ himself."

"I still don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean...it's still only a shape in the sky..."

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent up the Dark Mark every time they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror it inspired…you've no idea. Just imagine coming home and seeing the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside..." Mr. Weasley winced.

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill said, "Well, it certainly didn't help us tonight. The Death Eaters all Disapparated away as soon as they saw it. Didn't get near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" said Harry. "Hermione and Cedric said that earlier. What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," said Bill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight — the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban."

"We don't know that it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "But it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"If they _were_ Death Eaters, why'd they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been happy to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Well, just think about it," Hermione said, "If they really were Death Eaters then they'd have managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban after Voldemort's fall by telling all sorts of lies about him _forcing_ them to kill and torture all those people. I can't imagine he'd be impressed with them."

"So...whoever conjured the Dark Mark..." Cedric said slowly, "were they showing support for the Death Eaters, or trying to scare them away?"

"That's the question," Mr. Weasley said. "But I'll tell you this...only the Death Eaters ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once. Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few hours sleep and then try to get an early Portkey out of here."

Nobody moved. They looked around the tent and back at Mr. Weasley expectantly.

"Ah, right!" he said, looking around as well, "Yes, well, this _could_ be a problem."

"We could try an Expanding charm, add another bedroom," Charlie suggested, "Conjure up a few cots."

"No, no those cots wouldn't last through the night!" Percy exclaimed pompously. "We could cast an Expanding charm on the living room," he suggested, "Move all the furniture-"

"And where will they sleep, Wetherby? On the floor, I suppose?" Fred said mockingly.

"Now, boys, don't start," Mr. Weasley tiredly. "Perhaps one of the other tents has a spare cot or two we can borrow-"

"What other tents! There's hardly anyone left!" George exclaimed.

"And they're not likely to have spare cots, are they!" Fred put in.

Hermione sighed and leaned against the kitchen table wearily.

" _Or_ , Ginny and I can sleep in the living room," she said loudly. Everybody looked at her questioningly and she explained, "there're two sofas and it's only for a few hours anyhow," she looked over at Ginny for her opinion and found she was nodding vigorously in agreement.

"And Cedric can share with me and Ron," added Harry, and after the night they'd had, Ron wasn't arguing.

"Perfect! Are there any extra pillows and blankets?"

"Er, there might be some in the linen cupboard in the hallway," said Bill looking dumbstruck.

"Well that's that settled then," Mr. Weasley said, relieved and a little in taken aback by her quick solution.

"Right, well, let's go make up the sofas, Ginny," Hermione said uncomfortably, bemused by everybody's strange reaction to her non-magic solution. _Fascinating_ , she thought with a laugh.


	5. Chapter Five: Something To Talk About

**Chapter Five: Something To Talk About**

There had indeed been extra pillows and blankets in the cupboard. An abundance, in fact. Ginny and Hermione had piled the sofas with four blankets and two pillows each, succeeding in making them more comfortable than the cots would've been. And yet, Hermione lied awake in her makeshift bed at two in the morning, thinking. Ginny had fallen asleep within moments of her head hitting her pillow and was now snoring quite loudly, leaving Hermione to stare up at the tent's canvas roof.

Her mind was unsettled by the day's events, she couldn't stop analyzing all that had happened. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were currently camped out in the middle of an abandoned battlefield. She scoffed sarcastically at her own dramatization.

What really bothered her was that she had let Malfoy's words affect her more than they should've. _'They're hunting_ _ **Muggles**_ _…'_

Hermione knew full-well that she was a witch. But to have that fact so forcefully challenged at every turn… It didn't matter to Malfoy or the rest of the Slytherins that she could perform any spell she came across, or that she was at the top of her class at Hogwarts. All they saw was her "dirty" blood and their own overblown superiority. What good were reality and evidence if people willfully ignored them?

Hermione shivered uncomfortably. That's what terrified her most. The fact that she might be killed or tortured based on someone's self-important perception that she was nothing because of what amounted to an accident of birth… Though that wasn't entirely true in her case, she supposed. She sighed quietly into the dark.

Her darkening thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a floorboard creaking in the pitch dark of the tent. Suddenly, her comparison of the campsite to a battlefield didn't seem so ridiculous, and she sat up instantly, wand in hand.

" _Lumos,_ " she whispered.

She shone the light around the room, paying particular attention to the tent's entrance, before settling it on the doorframe leading into the hallway. She sighed in relief as her hand went to her chest and she dropped back onto the sofa, hissing quietly at the intruder, " _For Merlin's sake, you nearly gave me a heart attack!_ "

Cedric smiled apologetically and dropped down onto the floor beside the blue sofa she had claimed for the night.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I couldn't sleep," he whispered.

Hermione turned onto her side, propping her head up on her hand to look at him properly.

"It's alright, you didn't. I haven't been to sleep yet either. My mind just won't turn off," she admitted quietly, meeting his gray eyes with a half smile.

Ginny suddenly emitted a particularly loud snore causing them flinch and look over at her.

" _Bloody hell_ , it must be genetic. Ron snores like a lion as well," Cedric said in quiet awe.

Hermione muffled a laugh behind her hand and Cedric looked suddenly shamefaced and ducked his head, "Sorry, I don't know why I said that," he looked up slightly and caught her eye, his gaze turned contemplative, "I don't know why I said a lot of things I did today. Why do I feel like I could say anything to you?"

Hermione held his gaze, her brown eyes looking just as curious.

"I don't know," she said quietly.

"It feels like we've known each other for years actually," he said, sounding almost nostalgic.

"Is that a good thing, do you think?" she said with a quiet smile.

Cedric sighed tiredly, but smiled.

"I think today's been the first time I've been really happy since mum died and dad started burying himself in his work," he confided quietly, resting his head on the edge of the sofa.

"How long ago was that?" Hermione asked quietly, surprised by his confession.

"Ten, almost eleven years. She worked for the Department of Experimental Magic, researching a new potion. Volatile apparently. Something went wrong and there was an explosion. She and her research partner were both killed, but —"

Cedric's gaze has distant, his eyes clouded with the pain of whatever he was remembering. Hermione's stomach lurched uncomfortably with dread and she laid a hand on his arm in a silent offer of comfort. Her touch seemed to bring him back to the present, though his gaze was still pained and voice strained when he spoke again.

"I-it wasn't instant," he said haltingly, "She was in St. Mungo's for days before she - _passed_. Dad refused to let me see her while she was there, I guess he thought he was protecting me. But I snuck into her room one of the times he let me come along."

Hermione's chest tight with emotion and her eyes clouded with tears at the obvious pain in his voice. She heard him sniff quietly, "She was — I didn't even recognize her, there was so much — damage — she never woke up. I can never decide whether I'm thankful for that or not. But dad — he was never the same after that."

"What was her name?" Hermione asked quietly, her voice thick with emotion.

"Clara."

"And after — your father..."

"Couldn't cope," he said simply. "He was around at first, but eventually, he started staying late at the office, even before I started school. Left me with my grandmother mostly, sometimes the Weasleys."

Hermione sniffed quietly, trying to compose herself, "Are things the same now?"

"Mostly. Still works late most days, but he's been cutting back a bit lately," he said with a small shrug, "I don't know. At least he's trying, I suppose."

Hermione felt a grief she thought she had long buried resurface, raw and exposed.

"I can't imagine — I mean, I never knew my biological parents, so — I can't imagine losing either of them like that," she breathed, troubled, and Cedric's head shot up in surprise.

Cedric stared at her through wide eyes, "But I thought—"

Hermione realized her mistake at once and instinctively froze in place, disbelieving. But as her mind accepted the hornet's nest she had just disturbed, she was surprised to find she didn't regret it.

"The Grangers adopted me when I was about two. Nobody knows, not even Harry and Ron," she explained quietly.

"Why not?"

"Harry got such a raw deal having to live with the Dursleys, they're so bloody horrible to him. I just - I can't bring myself to tell him I got the better end of that particular spectrum," Hermione said with a shake of her head and Cedric felt his throat tighten with emotion at her quiet confession.

"Have you ever tried to find your real parents?" Cedric asked quietly.

"No. I've thought about it, but really, the chances of finding them after all these years...they could be dead for all I know, and if they're not… I don't think I want to know _why_ …" she shook her head again, "Besides, my parents — the Grangers, that is — they aren't horrible people or anything."

"How did you know they weren't your parents?"

"Well, when I got my Hogwarts letter I asked them if anybody else in our family was a witch and they said that they had no idea because they weren't my biological parents."

"Bit blunt wasn't it," Cedric said, sounding slightly outraged on her behalf.

Hermione shrugged lightly, "Maybe, but they _had_ just learned that their adopted daughter was a witch. Tensions were running a bit high, I suppose," she replied, her expression only betraying a hint of regret.

"What do you mean? Were they angry that you were a witch?" he asked, concerned.

"No," Hermione sighed quietly, "no, they weren't angry, I even think they might've been a bit relieved actually. At least it explained all the accidental magic over the years. But I could just see it in their faces. Like they were thinking, 'this is _not_ what we signed up for.' Things haven't been the same since."

A ghost of a smile crossed her face, so sad it broke his heart. He reached for her hand and twined their fingers together.

"So…what kind of accidental magic are we talking about?" he said, smiling softly.

Hermione chuckled lightly, "Well, there was the time I turned my father's hair blue, and the incident with a neighbor's Rottweiler which ended with my Apparating rather unexpectedly into my mother's kitchen. Nearly gave her a coronary," she said the last with a grimace.

Cedric raised an eyebrow, "Blimey. The worst I ever did was make a few tea cups explode," he considered her a moment, absently playing with her slim fingers, "Was it hard to transition into the Wizarding world?"

"Yes and no," she said slowly, "I'll always consider the Muggle world my home to some degree, but I never quite fit there. So in that respect, it was easy to leave and start over in the Wizarding world. I think the biggest adjustment was realizing that magic had its own set of laws and limitations."

"What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, in the Muggle world when somebody says something is magic they mean it doesn't make sense. It doesn't obey the laws of physics or have a scientific explanation. Basically, it _shouldn't work_. It was bizarre to realize that just because there's no _scientific_ explanation, it doesn't mean there's _no_ explanation at all. You see?"

"A change in perspective," he offered.

"Exactly," she said with a smile, "I had to reevaluate my definition and perception of magic as I was brought up to think of it."

"And now?" he asked seriously, "After everything you've seen and know about the Wizarding world, warts and all, have you ever considered leaving?"

"No," she replied easily, meeting his gaze unfalteringly, smiling slightly, "Especially not after a night like tonight."

"Because it reminds you that you have something to fight for?" Cedric asked.

"Partly…I mean, you'll find cruelty and ignorance everywhere you go. If I was just looking for a good cause to fight for I could easily find one in the Muggle world. No, it's more about who I'd be leaving behind," she returned quietly, meeting his eye. "I don't think I could ever leave Harry and the Weasleys behind. It's like I said, they've become my family."

Cedric couldn't help but smile, giving her hand a light squeeze. Another inhuman snore rattled through the room and they started again.

"Ron's _twice_ as loud. How can Harry sleep through that?" Cedric said, shaking his head.

"Adaptation. Survival of the fittest, it has to be. It's the _only_ way he could've survived the last three years sleeping in the same room as Ron _and_ Neville," Hermione said wryly.

Cedric laughed softly and rested his head against the sofa once more.

"Well, Darwin would be proud," he said sleepily.

"Cedric?" she questioned quietly.

The boy in question hummed sleepily in answer.

"What will happen to Winky?" The question had been niggling at her since the scene Crouch had made in the wood.

"You heard Crouch, she'll be sacked," Cedric replied, sounding more awake.

"I _did_ hear Crouch," she said, sounding bitter as she recalled Crouch's coldness, "I meant what will happen to her after that? Where will she go? What happens to house elves after they're sacked?"

"Oh, well, it depends. Sometimes they can find a new family, and the ones that don't, end up at Hogwarts, but they're usually not too happy about it."

"I don't understand. Why wouldn't they be happy?"

"I suppose you could say it's a cultural thing. In their society, serving a family gives them a higher social rank than working somewhere for wages. Working somewhere like Hogwarts is considered low-class — undesirable." Cedric explained.

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip worriedly, recalling the little house elf's frightened, tearstained face. "I don't suppose that Winky is likely to find a family willing to take her on after tonight, will she?"

"No. No, probably not. Too much scandal." Cedric lamented, "It's all complete bollocks if you ask me, the lot of it, but it's just how their society functions."

Hermione sighed sadly and glanced at the clock. 3 'o clock. She'd been up almost 24 hours straight. She could hear Cedric's breathing even out as he dozed off on the floor beside her and found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. She shifted slightly, tucking her right arm under her pillow and drifted to sleep moments later, her left arm draped over Cedric's shoulder as he held her hand against his chest.

Mr. Diggory entered the tent only an hour later, and upon entering stood stalk still at the sight that greeted him. Ginny Weasley was sprawled on the larger sofa, buried under a mountain of blankets and snoring loudly, and on the second, smaller sofa lay the young woman that had apparently captured his son's heart so entirely. And she wasn't alone. Cedric was sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa, head resting on one the edge of the cushion with the young brunette's hand clasped tightly in his own.

Amos Diggory shook his head in wistful wonderment at the young couple. It was as though they were attached by a string.

He still vividly remembered a time when he himself found himself so spellbound by a woman. He had met Clara while both were working at the Ministry. An internal auditor at the time, the Department of Experimental Magic had been his first assignment, where he would meet his future wife. He would've said it was love at first sight, but Amos far too rational for those sort of romantic notions then. All the same, there _had_ been a spark from the beginning, one that had only grown in magnitude as time passed them by. They were married within a year.

Amos felt a familiar tightness in his chest, as he thought of his late wife. The day she died he felt a part of him had died with her; he was forever changed and it showed. It was a gradual change, but soon after Clara's death, he began distancing himself from everybody, even his own son. He knew he had let Cedric down growing up, and continued to even now. His rather pitiful upbringing had affected him more deeply than perhaps even _he_ realized. Amos didn't deny that he had grown into a good man, friendly, kind and honest, but he also knew him to be conversely solitary and guarded with his thoughts and feelings. Despite this, or perhaps _because_ of it, Amos couldn't help but feel relieved and delighted that his son had found what he himself had lost so long ago: a soul mate.

He had watched the pair interact with each other through the day and seen the ease of their countenance and manners as they spoke and laughed together mere minutes after meeting. Gone was the strained, polite smile that had become the norm in their household for so long, replaced by a wide, genuine grin that exuded happiness whenever Miss Granger so much as glanced at him. It had been years since he had seen his son so happy or at ease, and it was all because of the young witch in front of him. What's more was that she seemed to return his feelings. Well, any young woman who could bring about such a profound transformation in his son with just one look had his whole-hearted approval.

Mr. Diggory smiled wistfully into the dark and quietly tip-toed his way to the large armchair between the two sofas, leaning back comfortably and sinking into oblivion almost immediately.

They all woke up to the sound of Mr. Weasley waking the boys after only a couple hours sleep. Ginny gave Hermione and Cedric a sleepy, but knowing look that clearly held the promise of a very long conversation in the near future. Mr. Diggory, however, looked entirely unfazed by the couple's presence and merely offered all of them a pleasant good morning as he stood, working the kinks out of his neck and back.

They all offered mumbled greetings in return as they got to their feet. Hermione and Cedric shared sleepy smiles as they disentangled and slowly stood, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. Mr. Weasley and the boys came in shortly thereafter, looking disgruntled and exhausted.

They didn't even have time to properly wake up, let alone for breakfast before Mr. Weasley packed up the lone tent with a flick of his wand and they hurriedly made their way across the campsite.

They heard urgent voices as they approached the Portkey rendezvous site, and when they reached it, they found a group of witches and wizards gathered around the Ministry official in charge, all desperate to get away from the campsite as soon as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with the official; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had fully risen.

Having only slept a handful of hours, everybody was feeling more than a little off-kilter as it was, making their second Portkey trip even more disastrous than the first. Everyone but Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory landed in the dog pile on the dewy ground. There was an odd _pop!_ and someone cried out in pain.

"Harry, that's my hand!" she heard Ginny exclaim indignantly.

"Yeah? At least he's not _sitting_ on _you_!" Ron shouted back.

Hermione reflexively made to get up but found herself pinned underneath George who was being sat on by Fred, both of whom were squashing somebody's foot, which was digging rather painfully into her ribs.

"OW! Fred, your foot's in my diaphragm!" Hermione cried out, slightly muffled by George's chest.

"Not me, love," Fred choked out.

"No, that's me, sorry!" Cedric's voice came from somewhere to her left, "ARGH! George, stop moving! You're gonna break my bloody foot!"

"And _my_ ribs," Hermione rejoined, her voiced strained.

"Well, _excuse me_ , but I'm having a bit of trouble breathing here," George wheezed, still squirming to lift himself and Fred off, "Oi, Fred! Get off us!"

George tried to buck him off and was met with three shouts of pain, but none so loud as Fred's, "Stop! Stop! I can't move, I think my bloody leg's broken!" he ground out.

Fred, in his attempt to land on his feet, had apparently stuck his leg straight out, before realizing the ground was suddenly much closer than he thought. He felt his leg give out at the harsh impact as a mind-numbing pain radiated from somewhere just below his knee, and he landed squarely on his brother's back.

George, Hermione, and Cedric ceased their desperate movements, afraid they'd aggravate Fred's injury. Hermione exhaled through her nose slowly and tried to ignore the pain radiating through her ribs.

"Oh, dear," Mr. Weasley intoned worriedly.

"It's alright, Arthur, we'll move him on three, shall we?" Amos suggested.

"Right."

"One - two - three."

They heard Fred moan painfully as his added weight was lifted off them and then shout, presumably as he was lowered to the ground once more.

George was off Hermione and by Fred's side in a flash, leaving her and Cedric to sigh in relief. Hermione felt Cedric remove his foot almost immediately and she pushed herself up a bit painfully.

"Are you alright?" Cedric was at her side in an instant, offering her a hand up and peering at her with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said as he helped her up.

The rest of their group was huddled around Fred as Mr. Weasley examined his leg, and Cedric and Hermione stood a little behind them all.

"Well, it looks like a clean break. I should be able to mend it myself," Mr. Weasley finally said.

At the looks of horror that passed between all the Weasley siblings, Hermione concluded that Mr. Weasley's skills as a healer had previously been proven to be somewhat lacking. Mr. Diggory, too, must have known this because at Mr. Weasley's pronouncement he leapt forth.

"Er, why don't you let _me_ do it, Arthur? You remember what happened the last time you tried this spell," he said carefully.

Mr. Weasley obviously _did_ remember, for he winced and quickly stood, "Probably a good idea actually."

"What happened the last time he tried it?" Hermione whispered curiously to Cedric, who was also wincing.

"The spell was a bit too strong. The bones came tearing out of the poor bloke's arm in the opposite direction," Cedric whispered back, looking positively ill at the memory.

And Hermione didn't blame him. She felt a bit ill herself and she hadn't even witnessed it!

"And suddenly I'm grateful we _didn't_ have breakfast," she muttered and Cedric laughed weakly.

Mr. Diggory pointed his wand at Fred's leg, " _Ferula,_ " he intoned.

There was a loud popping sound and Fred screamed. Everybody jumped at both sounds, looking extremely worried until Fred exclaimed, "Oh, thank Merlin! Mr. Diggory, you're a lifesaver! Dad would probably've amputated the bloody thing!"

They all laughed at that pronouncement, Mr. Weasley heartily of all. Fred jumped to his feet easily, moving his newly healed leg as if to test it out, and everybody spread out to gather their forgotten packs and bags.

"Arthur, I'll see you at work on Monday," Amos said, clapping Mr. Weasley on the back.

Cedric turned to Hermione as she swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Think you can manage to stay out of harm's way for the next week or so," he said jokingly, "I'd like it if you were in one piece the next time I see you."

"This coming from the source of most of my present injuries," she shot back dryly, but smiling nonetheless.

"Are you staying with the Weasleys until term starts?"

"Yeah, my parents are in Hamburg until mid-September," she explained.

"Listen, I-"

"Come on, Ced!" Mr. Diggory called.

They both laughed at his poor timing and Cedric pulled Hermione into a hug. Hermione wrapped her arms around Cedric's back, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

"See you in a week," Hermione whispered as they pulled away.

"Promise?" he asked quietly.

"I promise," she said laughingly, rolling her eyes at his childish behavior.

The pair moved apart, each joining their respective groups, albeit reluctantly.

As the two groups parted ways, Cedric couldn't help looking over his shoulder, staring longingly after Hermione. He saw her make her way to Ginny's side, only to grab her side when the young girl grabbed her arm a little too enthusiastically before she and the rest of the group disappeared beyond the other side of the hill.

Cedric sighed heavily as he turned away, attracting his father's attention.

"You quite like Miss Granger, don't you?" he said, looking over at the young man.

Cedric looked over at his father in surprise, suddenly feeling unbelievably awkward. It wasn't like them to talk about this sort of thing. _Ever_. The extent of their personal conversations extended as far as asking after his friends. And even _that_ felt at bit too personal. Cedric shook himself mentally. This was a good thing, it was progress. He was trying. It's what he's always wanted, right? Cedric exhaled quietly, forcing himself to relax.

"Yeah, I really do," his eyes flit over to his father but quickly returned to the horizon, "I've never met anyone like her. She's _brilliant,_ funny, beautiful - I feel like can talk to her about anything," he looked down at his shoes, feeling horribly exposed. "Bloody rare combination."

"Aye, that it is, my boy," Amos sighed sadly.

Cedric looked over at his father in surprise at the, admittedly roundabout, reference to his mother and put an arm around his shoulders in comfort. The older man was surprised by the action, Cedric noticed, but said nothing.

Ginny saw Cedric pull Hermione into a hug and nearly squealed in excitement. She contained her enthusiasm, however, ensuring the others remained oblivious of the couple for both hers and Hermione's sakes.

As Hermione made her way towards her, Ginny watched Cedric Diggory's retreating back, unsurprised to find he was looking back, his eyes locked on Hermione longingly. She wasted no time. As soon as she was within her reach, Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm in excitement, only to regret it when Hermione clutched her side with a soft moan of pain.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked fretfully. "Did you break something, too?"

"No," Hermione laughed shakily, "no, nothing's broken, just bruised."

"Are you sure?" she said her eyes wide.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now stop looking as though I'm dying," she said not unkindly, "You're almost as bad as Cedric."

Ginny's eyes lit up again at the reminder of her goal, "Oh, am I now? He _does_ seem very protective of you, looked ready to _kill_ Malfoy last night, and he's absolutely _gorgeous_ to boot. I approve!" Ginny said energetically.

"Well if _you_ approve he _must_ be alright!" Hermione joked, "And, you know, looks aren't everything."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "I know, I know," she sighed, "There's also intelligence and personality and integrity and all that other rubbish. Blah, blah, blah."

Hermione smiled wryly, shaking her head at Ginny's single-mindedness.

"Are you two dating then?" she suddenly asked.

"No, of course not." Ginny stared at her as though she was crazy, "Well I'm not saying there isn't potential, but we hardly know each other, Ginny."

"I know, but it's just so _romantic_!" She said, sounding utterly fanciful by now, "The way he looks at you, Hermione! Like you're the most amazing person in the world! Like its just the two of you and he can't imagine being without you!"

Hermione smiled at her wildly romantic notions, "You're reading _so_ much into everything, Ginny. _Too_ much."

"Maybe," Ginny conceded, "but you _do_ admit there's something between you?"

"Yes, Ginny," she said drolly, "I admit, there is a certain something between us. A _spark_ , if you will."

Ginny sighed dreamily, a silly smile on her face, and Hermione sighed. It was going to be a long walk back.


	6. Chapter Six: Dazed and Confused

**Chapter Six: Dazed and Confused**

It was a very quiet group that walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane towards the Burrow in the dim dawn light, too exhausted to carry on any semblance of conversation, much to Hermione's relief. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed from down the lane.

"Oh, thank Merlin! I was so worried!"

Mrs. Weasley had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard and came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, a rolled-up copy of the _Daily Prophet_ clutched in her hand.

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck leaving the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ to fall out of her hand and onto the ground. Looking down, Hermione saw the headline: _A NIGHT OF_ _TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_ , complete with a black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark hovering over the treetops.

"Oh, you're all alright," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive...Oh, _boys_..."

And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into a bone-crushing hug.

" _O_ _w_ _!_ Mum, you're strangling us!"

"I shouted at you before you left," Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I could think of! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s?"

"Come now, Molly, we're all perfectly alright," said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prying her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone, "grab that paper, I want to see what it says..."

When they were all crammed into the warm kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of _very_ strong tea indeed, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the article while Percy looked over his shoulder.

"Oh, wouldn't you just know it," said Mr. Weasley heavily. " _Ministry blunders...culprits not apprehended...lax security...Dark wizards running unchecked...national disgrace_... Who wrote this? Ah, of course...Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness instead —"

"Do us a favor, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."

"I'm mentioned," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening as he reached the bottom of the article.

"What? Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whisky. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this: _'_ _A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark stating that whoever was responsible for conjuring the Dark Mark had not been apprehended and refused to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash rumors of several bodies being removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen._ _'_ Oh really," said Mr. Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to a hovering Percy. "Nobody _was_ caught. What was I supposed to say? _Rumors of several bodies being removed from the woods_...well, there'll certainly be rumors now she's printed _that_."

He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'll have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"Yes, I'll go as well," said Percy importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked upset.

"Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This has nothing to do with your office."

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and be off..."

"Mrs. Weasley," said Harry suddenly, "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. "No...no, there hasn't been any post at all."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a curious look. With a meaningful look at both of them, Harry said, "Alright if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah...think I will, too," said Ron at once. "Hermione?"

"Y-yes," she said quickly, and the three of them marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"What's up?" said Ron, the moment they had closed the door of the attic room behind them.

"There's something I haven't told you," Harry said. "The day your dad came to collect me, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

Hermione's breath caught momentarily. She began running through the implications and possibilities, unknowingly pacing the room and making suggestions on what Harry should do and who he should talk to. Ron simply looked dumbstruck.

"Or perhaps Remus —"

Ron suddenly found his voice again. "But — he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean, last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?"

Hermione stopped pacing.

"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive," said Harry. "But I was dreaming about him and Wormtail and a third man I didn't recognize. I can't remember all of it now, but they were planning to kill...someone."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his hesitation. Ron caught her eye and she knew he had noticed as well and both silently agreed to let it go for now.

"It was only a dream," said Ron bracingly. "Just a nightmare."

"Yeah, but...was it?" said Harry. "It's weird though, isn't it? My scar hurts, and a few days later the Death Eaters resurface, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."

"Argh! _Don_ _'_ _t say his name!_ " Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

"Wait. Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I told Sirius about it," said Harry, shrugging sheepishly. "I'm waiting for his answer."

"Good thinking!" said Ron, the worry lifting from his expression slightly. "He'll know what to do. Or maybe he's heard something about the Death Eaters and... _Voldemort_."

Ron looked as though he might be struck by lightning at any moment and Hermione had to turn away to hide her smile.

"Yeah, maybe. I just hoped he'd get back to me quickly," said Harry.

"Well, we don't know where Sirius is...he could be anywhere in the world, couldn't he?" said Hermione reasonably.

"Yeah, I know," said Harry, he looked out of the window at the owl-free sky looking as miserable as sin.

"Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry," said Ron. "Come on. Three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play..."

"Good idea!" Hermione proclaimed, jumping up from her perch on Ron's bed, "You can try out the Wonky Feint..."

" _Wronksi_ Feint," Ron said, exasperated.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smirked. "You knew what I meant. Isn't that enough?"

Harry and Ron exchanged an amused look and Harry's mood seemed lifted at the prospect of flying. "Yeah, alright," Harry said, "Let me just get my Firebolt."

Hermione made to follow the boys out when Ron stopped to look back at her, eyes narrowed and a small smile playing on his lips. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" He asked, and Hermione knew he was referring to the blundered name.

She simply smiled and shoved him out of the room, "Maybe."

Hermione watched the boys and Ginny weave perilously above her in the Weasley's orchard, a well-loved book of poetry open on her lap. For once, however, her attention was not on the pages of her beloved books, her constant companions. Instead, she let her mind wander.

The sun had now fully risen and was casting a warm light on the orchard. It bounced brilliantly off the hills and lake surrounding the Burrow and soothed Hermione's mind. A string of thoughts started filtering through her sleep-deprived mind.

 _There will be time, there will be time_

 _To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet_

 _There will be time to murder and create_

Had she been reading T.S. Eliot? She glanced down at the open book in her lap. William Carlos Williams. Her mind wandered again. What if it wasn't a dream? Harry dreams of Voldemort and then the Death Eaters are suddenly bold enough to go on the march again a few days later. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe not. It didn't feel like one.

There was so much raw fear. The very sight of them was enough to cause mass chaos. That in itself was worrying. What if this was just the beginning? She had already felt the anti-Muggle sentiment that lingered from the last war. Malfoy had made sure of that. Despite Malfoy's prior jabs, however, his father's bold, almost open display of disdain for her had surprised her. And so dangerously close to Fudge, as well. He seemed to think he could get away with anything. And his son has taken after him in every way.

As for who Voldemort was plotting to kill, she didn't need three guesses. Hermione sighed heavily and rubbed her tired eyes. The sun was starting to beat down on them in full force now and she could practically feel her freckles multiplying, but she was deliciously warm and comfortable where she was. She tilted her head back against the tree trunk and let her eyes droop closed.

At least she had met Cedric. She smiled sleepily. Somehow that eased the lingering uneasiness. Or perhaps...made it worth it. Life was so strange sometimes. No good without bad. And vice versa.

 _Time for you and time for me_

 _And time yet for a hundred indecisions_

 _And for a hundred visions and revisions_

 _Before the taking of a toast and tea_

She finally drifted off to the sounds of the impromptu Quidditch match and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

—-

Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before anyone was up, and returned well after dinner every night.

"The Ministry is in a complete uproar," Percy related stiffly the evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts.

Hermione tuned the self-important speech out from where she sat in front of one of the window. Once again, the book she had chosen laid in her lap unread. Instead, her gaze was lost in the steady, violent rainfall outside. Now that they were set to return to Hogwarts, she was beginning to feel an uncharacteristic uneasiness.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to ignore Percy as well, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner with a sigh. Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work."

The quiet sigh brought Hermione out of her circling thoughts and she glanced over to its source in the kitchen. She frowned at the worry creasing Mrs. Weasley's kindly face and uncurled herself from the chair.

Hermione smiled at the Weasley matriarch as she approached, "Would you like any help with dinner, Mrs. Weasley? Only, I'm feeling a little restless."

Mrs. Weasley's face relaxed as she smiled, "I would love a hand, my dear."

Hermione moved to the sink to wash her hands.

"Are you looking forward to the new school year?" Mrs. Weasley asked as Hermione dried her hands and began peeling potatoes beside her. Being in the kitchen like this soothed her and reminded her of helping her mum with dinner as a child.

"Yes. I can't wait for classes to start. Especially Ancient Runes. It's my favorite." Hermione seemed to pause in her movements for a second and Mrs. Weasley noticed.

"What's wrong, dear?" She asked kindly.

Hermione shook her head minutely, "Nothing really. It's just...things feel...different now. Uncertain." Hermione worried her bottom lip and asked the question that had been playing on her mind since the Cup, "is this what it was like... _before_?"

Mrs. Weasley looked somber as she squeezed Hermione's hands reassuringly. "It — it feels the same, but you have to understand, Hermione, it's also different." Her voice trembled slightly, as she continued in a half whisper. "You-Know-Who is gone — he's _gone_. This was just an isolated incident, nothing more. I don't want you to worry about it because it's not the same. It's just —brought up old memories and fears in people. That's all."

Hermione tried to let that reassure her, but Mrs. Weasley's eyes, glassy with tears, didn't allow for that. All she could manage in response was a small nod. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be satisfied with that and they returned to their dinner preparations, both silently working. Both silently worrying.

—-

Hours later, with the rain still lashing relentlessly against the living room window, Hermione sat quietly, her mind finally at peace long enough to get immersed in _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_.

Mrs. Weasley continued to sneak quick looks at the clock. The hand with Mr. Weasley's photo on it was still firmly pointed to "work." It seemed to be stuck there permanently, from Mrs. Weasley's perspective. The only time Mrs. Weasley drew her attention away from the clock entirely was when she spotted Fred and George sitting in a far corner of the room, speaking in hushed tones, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"What are you two up to?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply, her eyes trained on the twins and narrowed dangerously.

"Homework," said Fred vaguely.

"Oh, yes? Maybe I should look it over, seeing as you left it so late," Mrs. Weasley countered shrewdly.

"No! S'alright, mum," George shouted. Fred, meanwhile, was practically sprawled across the parchment.

Hermione smirked slightly. Subtle. Mrs. Weasley certainly knew how to keep them on their toes.

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose my transfiguration skills would be of little use on those new _order form_ _s_ , wouldn't they?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply.

"Mum," said Fred in a hurt tone, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel knowing the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Even Mrs. Weasley laughed at that.

"Oh! Your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling" and second later came a definitive stop on "home" and they heard him call from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.

A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying a dinner tray. He looked drawn and exhausted.

"Well, it couldn't get much worse now," he said to the room, sitting down in an armchair near the hearth and toying with the food on his plate. "Rita Skeeter's been sniffing around all week, looking for more Ministry "scandals" to write about. Now she's found out about poor Bertha going missing and you can bet that'll be the headline in the _Prophet_ tomorrow." Weasley groaned tiredly, "I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy sniffed importantly.

"Crouch is lucky Skeeter hasn't found out about Winky," said Hermione irritably, fed up with Percy's attitude. "There'd be _weeks_ worth of headlines if it got out his house-elf was found holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did _not_ conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"Oh, really Percy, wake up! In case you haven't noticed, Rita doesn't much care about the _truth!_ " Mr. Weasley said crossly, "Hermione's right, he's managed to get off _rather easy_ so far if you ask me."

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs. Weasley, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you..."

—-

Cedric made a noise of frustration as he lied on the living room couch. Torrents of rain had been coming down all day, leaving him without an escape from his relentless thoughts. What was happening to his brain? He couldn't get her out of his head. It was an impossibility. Hermione Granger had managed to get under his skin and in his head, and Cedric was torn between elation and frustration.

She'd been on his tired mind every day since he met her at the Cup. He couldn't forget the feeling of absolute peace and belonging that her pretense evoked in him, it was intoxicating. It was comforting. More than that, it felt...right. He wondered if she felt it, too. She was so inscrutable, more than even _he_ was, it was hard to tell.

She was so unlike most of the women he had ever met. She didn't dissolve into fits of giggles or blush beet red when he spoke to her as most women did. She didn't simper or preen and she _sure as hell_ wasn't afraid of speaking her mind. Then there was that infinitely rare quality she possessed of being able to get him to open up. He found himself confiding in her things that even Scott and Logan didn't know about him. His mother. He never talked about his mother, to _anyone_.

His friends at Hogwarts knew he had lost his mother when he was young, but nothing else. And talking to his father about her always ended in disappointment. Hermione was the first person he'd ever felt completely at ease with in every way.

Cedric sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. He'd been stuck at home, bored out of his mind since they got back from the World Cup. His father was working even later than usual, dealing with the fallout from Rita Skeeter's article in _The Prophet_. He had always privately thought of it as a side effect of being an only child, this chronic loneliness. Then he remembered what Hermione had said to him, 'we make our own family.' She was right, it was the only way to survive in this world, and he couldn't stop the overwhelming hope that she would be part of that family.

Cedric groaned and rolled off the couch to repack his trunk. If he was going insane he might as well be productive as it happened.


	7. Chapter Seven: New Beginnings

Chapter Seven: New Beginnings

The morning of September 1st dawned gray and damp. Which was to say, as far as some of the Burrow's occupants were concerned, it might as well hadn't dawned at all. There was a definite gloom hanging in the air, amplified by the violent downpour that had kept up through the night.

Hermione slapped her small alarm clock into silence and sat up in bed, rubbing her bleary eyes. She could hear Ron's snores drifting down from the attic, and one look out the window had her feeling characteristically lazy and she flopped onto her back once more. The sound of the rain lulled her senses and she relaxed further into the mattress, closing her eyes.

The disquiet from the night before had only grown after her talk with Mrs. Weasley and seemed to solidify in the pit of her stomach. The rain started coming down harder and faster and her thoughts started swirling, her chest constricted. Suddenly, her breath started coming faster. The rain wasn't so relaxing anymore. Her eyes shot open and she took several deep breaths, trying to get her swirling mind under control. She forced her eyes to focus on a small pink spot on the ceiling.

Eventually, she felt the knot in her chest loosen and shot an anxious look over at Ginny. Hermione sighed quietly in relief at the sight of her sleeping form. She carefully got up, gathered her clothes, and tiptoed her way to the bathroom to get ready. The bathroom door creaked closed behind her and she leaned against heavily, letting a few tears to leak out. It wasn't the first time she had felt that awful, suffocating feeling. According to her parents it occasionally happened when she was very young, and she could remember experiencing it once, just before starting Hogwarts, but nothing since.

She took a deep breath in an effort to dispel the lingering anxiety that was stirring in her chest. A frustrated sigh escaped her and she quickly shed her pajamas and slipped into her jeans and top, pulling her hair into a ponytail so she could splash cold water on her face.

—-

She shook Ginny awake, tugging at her arm insistently when she burrowed deeper under her covers.

"Oh, too late anyhow. I think I hear the twins getting up!" Hermione fibbed.

Ginny shot up in her bed and listened for a second before glaring and grumbling her way to her wardrobe. Hermione tried to hide her smirk but failed, a pair of jeans smacking her in the head for her troubles. It only served to make her laugh, aggravating Ginny further as she snatched the jeans back and stalked out of the room.

Hermione smiled and flopped onto the edge of the bed. She felt a hundred times lighter. The rain had slowed somewhat. She rested her head on the window sill and closed her eyes, letting the sound of the rain lull her mind into emptiness again.

" _The trouble with you, my little bird, is that you think_ _ **far**_ _too much sometimes," she heard her mum's voice say with a laugh, "Sometimes, you just need to look at it all and have a laugh at life, alright? Just have a laugh."_

 _I suppose she was right._

"Are you okay?"

Ginny's voice startled Hermione from her perch on the bed a few minutes later. Her hair was still up in a messy ponytail, but she seemed to be awake and behaving more human-like now.

"Fine! Just a bit tired, that's all." Hermione smiled reassuringly at the younger woman.

"Are you sure?" Ginny looked quizzical as she plopped down next to Hermione and began pulling her shoes on. "You've been sort of quiet the last few days. Ever since the Cup."

Ginny finished tying the laces on her trainers and looked sharply over at her friend, "Missing a certain Hufflepuff, maybe?" she asked slyly, a definite smirk on her face.

Hermione froze and blinked owlishly at Ginny as her mind processed the carefree comment. A balloon of emotion swelled in her chest and suddenly found she couldn't contain the laughter bubbling up inside her. Of _course_ Ginny would think that her mood was directly correlated to a boy. Ginny looked torn between confusion at her reaction and amusement of her own, making Hermione's laughter intensify and grab Ginny's arm in mirth. That was enough to break Ginny's resolve and she broke down in a fit of giggles as well.

"Come on," Hermione said, tugging at Ginny's arm and fighting giggles, "let's get breakfast before the boys wake up and devour everything in sight."

Ginny nodded through giggles, wiping tears from her eyes, and they began the onerous task of dragging their trunks down the Burrow's winding stairs.

—

They entered the kitchen with a _thump!_ startling Mrs. Weasley as their trunks came to rest on the floor.

"Oh, girls! You should've let the boys get those for you later!" Mrs. Weasley fussed. "Breakfast's on the table. Better tuck in before the boys get down here."

They heard the bathroom door close upstairs, following by a barrage of knocking along with Percy's distinct voice bellowing. " _I need to get for work! Mr. Crouch depends on—_ "

Hermione and Ginny exchanged amused looks at the squelching sound that followed while they helped themselves to some hot buttered toast and bacon.

A few minutes into breakfast, the fireplace behind Ginny sprung to life with a loud _whoosh!_ causing her to knock the butter dish off the table with her elbow. Mrs. Weasley uttered an exasperated, 'Oh, _Ginny_!' waving her wand at the mess before leaning down in front of the fire to speak to Mr. Diggory's disembodied head.

Hermione had heard of using the Floo Network to communicate with other people, but she'd never actually witnessed it herself. She watched the bizarre interaction with interest - and a little bemusement. For all the amazing things magic could do, it surprised her how far behind they were as far as technological innovation went. A Muggle telephone was far more practical than getting down on your knees, surely.

"Morning, Amos!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerily. "Cedric all ready and excited for the new school year?"

"Hello, Molly! Yes, poor lad's been up since dawn. Molly, I'm sorry about this, but we've got an emergency of sorts at the Ministry and we need Arthur's help."

"Oh, dear! I'll get him," and with that, she sprung to her feet and climbed the staircase, calling for Arthur.

"Hello, Hermione," Mr. Diggory's head suddenly exclaimed. Hermione jumped at being addressed. Perhaps she had underestimated the utility of the Floo Network. _How could he see me all the way over here?_

"Morning, Mr. Diggory! How've you been? I hear things at the Ministry are a bit tense lately," Hermione said companionably.

"Oh, call me Amos, dear girl! Yes, the Ministry's in absolute _shambles_! We've all been working from sun up to sun down, and the Howlers! Scorch marks ev - what?" Mr. Diggory appeared to be talking to someone over his shoulder, "Oh, right," he said, "Hermione, dear, Cedric says hello and that he will save you all seats on the train and meet you on the platform, just in case you're late," Mr. Diggory repeated dutifully.

Hermione's smile was automatic upon hearing Cedric's name, "Tell him I'll see him then and thank him for me, would you?"

Mr. Weasley came clattering into the kitchen at that moment with his robes on backwards, the hood seemingly strangling him. He tripped slightly over the hem of his robes in his haste and skidded to a halt in front of the fireplace as Harry and the others began filtering into the kitchen.

"…we got lucky, Arthur," said Mr. Diggory. "I came into the office early to send a few of owls and drop Ced at the station, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot setting off — if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one…"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Diggory groaned. "He _says_ he heard an intruder in the yard. Claims he was creeping toward the house but was ambushed by his dustbins."

"And what did the dustbins _do_?" asked Mr. Weasley, unperturbed.

Hermione caught Harry's equally incredulous gaze and glanced over at Ginny to gauge her reaction to the strange conversation taking place only to find her happily munching on toast, unbothered. _Ambushed by dustbins. Normal. Alright._

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory, exasperated. "More likely there's a shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in carrot and potato peelings."

"I don't doubt it. Alright, I'm off," Mr. Weasley said, and dashed out of the kitchen again.

"I'm sorry about this, Molly," Mr. Diggory said, more calmly, "today of all days...but Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today and Arthur's his only hope of getting off. Why he had to choose last night..."

"Oh, never mind, Amos," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Thanks for understanding, Molly. Have a good year you lot," and with a small _pop_ , he vanished.

Mr. Weasley was back in the kitchen within five minutes, his robes on the right way this time, and called hurried good-byes to all of them.

"I'd better hurry. You all have a good term," said Mr. Weasley fastening his cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, will you be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course," she said. "We'll be fine."

Mrs. Weasley, with Hermione's help, braved the telephone box in the village to order three Muggle taxis to take them into London.

And so they stood in the sludgy yard, watching the taxi drivers try to heave six heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars.

"Oh dear, they don't look very happy, do they?" Mrs. Weasley commented worriedly.

Hermione and Harry winced. Neither of them wanted to tell Mrs. Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers didn't usually transport owls, let alone overexcited ones, and Pig was making a racket. It also didn't help that one of the twins' trunks flew open, releasing one of their inventions that apparently shot off fireworks, causing the driver to shout out in fright and pain as he dropped one of the heavy trunks on his foot and simultaneously dove for cover. Mrs. Weasley could only glare murderously at the twins who were trying very hard to disappear behind Ron and Charlie.

The rest of the journey was equally uncomfortable. They were all jammed into the back of the taxis along with their trunks. It was with an extraordinary amount of sadness and guilt that Hermione felt relieved that Crookshanks was no longer around, if only because she was sure it was saving them from an inordinate amount of scratching at the moment. The second their stopped at King's Cross Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Charlie all made a mad scramble for the doors and spilled out of the taxi in relief. None of them could even bring themselves to mind that rain was coming down harder than ever and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the road.

The platform was more crowded than usual. They took advantage of the crowds and quickly ran through the barrier. Platform 9 3/4 materialized before Hermione's eyes the next instant and her senses were assaulted by the sound of a hundred talking and laughing voices. Dark clouds of steam from the train hovered over the platform, shrouding the students and parents on the platform in a specter-like appearance and she nearly rammed into the back of Ron who was trying to calm Pig who was screeching louder than ever in response to the hooting of other owls in the mist.

Hermione tried to maneuver her way around Ron and heard Ginny say something she couldn't make out over the din of noise coming from the other students.

"Wha- AHH!" Hermione shrieked in surprise as someone suddenly appeared at her side and a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She caught a whiff of a familiar scent and her shout turned into laughter as she wrapped her arms around her assailant's neck. "Bloody hell, Cedric! You scared me!"

Cedric eventually set her down, but neither moved away, Hermione keeping her hands on his arms as he held her waist, "Just keeping you on your toes," he joked.

"I suppose I should just be grateful you didn't tackle me this time," Hermione said wryly.

"Don't think I didn't consider it," he teased.

Ginny cleared her throat rather loudly next to Hermione's ear and they both looked over at her, Cedric greeting her politely, "Come on, I'll help you two with your trunks."

Cedric led them to an empty compartment halfway along the train, Harry and Ron following behind, and stowed their luggage there. They hopped back onto the platform to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.

"Thank you for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione, giving her a hug.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with...one thing and another."

"What d'you know that we don't?" asked Ron suspiciously as they re-boarded the train.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you...Now, behave, won't you? _Won_ _'_ _t_ you, Fred? And you, George?"

Fred and George only waved goodbye from the train window, a less than innocent smile on both their faces.

Mrs. Weasley tried to look sternly at them but couldn't help but smile. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Cedric went back to their compartment while Ginny split off to find her friends. As soon as they entered the compartment, Ron opened his trunk, pulled out a set of robes, and flung them over Pig's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Wonder what mum was talking —"

"Shh!" Harry whispered suddenly, pressing a finger to his lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Hermione, Cedric, and Ron listened and heard a familiar voice drifting in through the open door.

"…I wonder what sorry excuse of a Defense professor Dumbledore's lined up this year. God, Hogwarts is a joke! I would have been better off at Durmstrang. You know how Father feels about Dumbledore and his approach to Defense and _Mudbloods_. Of course, Mother had to go and open her big mouth and start crying about my being so far away."

Hermione tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's sneering voice.

"Thinks Durmstrang would've suited him, eh?" Ron said angrily. "Wish he _had_ gone. Have someone else deal with his poncy highness for a change."

"So, what? Durmstrang's another Wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione, "it's got an _interesting_ reputation. It supposedly puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"Yeah, I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"No one knows for sure," said Cedric.

"Er, why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between the magic schools in Europe, but then World War I happened and they all started accusing each other of espionage, so Durmstrang and Beauxbatons concealed their whereabouts and erased all memory of their location from outsiders' memories," said Hermione explained.

"Come off it," Ron laughed. "Durmstrang's got to be at least the size of Hogwarts, how are you going to hide a _castle_?"

Cedric and Hermione blinked in surprise, "Hogwarts _is_ hidden," said Hermione, sounding scandalized at their lack of knowledge. "Everyone knows that."

"Go on then. How d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?" Ron challenged.

"It's bewitched," said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a decrepit old ruin with a sign that says DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE STRUCTURE."

"So Durmstrang looks like a ruin to an outsider, too?"

"Maybe," said Cedric, shrugging, "or it could have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. Who knows? My bet's that Durmstrang's somewhere in the far north though," said Cedric postulated. "Somewhere cold since they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

Hermione hummed in agreement.

The rain became heavier and colder as the train journeyed farther north. The sky was so dark that the lanterns were lit by midday and the rain splattering on the windows made it near-impossible to see out. Several of their year-mates stopped in to talk to them as the afternoon progressed, all of them surprised to find Cedric with them, and all the boys giving Hermione rather long, lingering looks.

Hermione smiled briefly at Seamus as he settled in for a chat with Harry and Ron, turning back to the notebook settled between her and Cedric.

"I still say it won't change the outcome," she told Cedric.

Cedric sighed exasperatedly, "How can you say that so unequivocally? These are some of the most powerful numbers in the magic world. Using them like this would _have_ to increase the likelihood of getting a clear result!"

"It would _have_ to? C'mon, Ced, it's a good theory, it's _guesswork_ at best, admit it!" Hermione challenged.

"Alright, you know what? First thing we do when we get to Hogwarts is test my theory! That's that!" Cedric said, sounding slightly hysterical.

Hermione couldn't contain her mirth, "Oh, that's that, eh? The great and mighty Cedric Diggory has spoken and so it shall be?"

Cedric's face cracked into a smile as he realized how ridiculous he must have sounded.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he has and it _shall_ be," he replied, trying to sound haughty despite his laughter.

The two laughed softly and Hermione scribbled a couple of runes next to formula he had scribbled in the notebook. Cedric made a noise of protest but Hermione quickly shushed him.

"Just…keep an open mind," she chastised.

Hermione idly noticed that the conversation with Seamus had inevitably turned to the World Cup and tried to block out their enthusiastic play-by-play descriptions as they relived the game.

"Me mum packed us up as soon as she saw who was out there," Seamus relayed, his Irish accent thicker than usual in his agitated state. "So you saw it all up close, yeah? Did you… _see_ anything in the woods, then?"

He looked at them all in turn, excitement and trepidation alight in his eyes.

"We didn't see any bodies if that's what you mean," Harry deadpanned.

"But the Prophet said—"

"Seamus," Hermione interrupted with an exasperated laugh, "you asked us what we saw and what we _saw_ was a whole lot of flashing lights and a _distinct_ lack of dead bodies."

Seamus nodded, obviously disappointed at not being able to confirm the rumors, "Fair enough, I suppose."

He went quiet, seemingly accepting the answer but then suddenly burst in an excited whisper, "D'you reckon there _were_ any bodies, though?"

"It was just a cheap attempt by Rita Skeeter to scare up more readership for her stories if you ask me," Hermione said sardonically.

"Yeah, if someone had actually died we'd've heard who it was," Cedric chimed in, "The Prophet would've reported on it by now, don't you think?"

"Reckon you're right," Seamus said pensively. "I'll tell you what though. Mum's face when she saw those masks…I asked her about it after. Said she only heard stories 'bout how it was last time. She and her parents did a runner back to Ireland when You-Know-Who started trouble back then. She always thought they'd gotten lucky and she'd never have to experience that fear."

Usually, Seamus kept their conversations light and superficial. He was happy to get into a full-blown row about which pro Quidditch team was best, but anything more personal than that was nonexistent. He looked worriedly down at his hands, rubbing them together nervously.

Hermione couldn't bear the silence any longer.

"It was probably a one-off," she said quietly, trying to sound convincing. "And if it's not—"

"If it's not, then we'll face it when the time comes. Just like our parents did," Harry finished bracingly.

"Right. If the time comes," Seamus intoned softly. "I'd better get back. I'm supposed to be getting the lot of us something from the trolley."

They said their goodbyes as Seamus left and were rather subdued until Ron suggested a game of Exploding Snap to Harry. Hermione tuned out the sound of their game and began scribbling in a black leather-bound notebook she pulled out of her bag.

After a few minutes, Hermione looked up to find Cedric starting at her pen curiously.

"What?" she asked quizzically. "What is it?"

"What kind of quill is that? I've never seen anything like it," he said quizzically, clearly befuddled.

Hermione felt her eyebrows rise involuntarily in shock and realized both Harry and Ron must be so used to her constant scribbling they never paid much attention to what she was using.

"Er, well, it's a ballpoint pen. It's a Muggle version of a quill and ink." Seeing that he was still looking more than a little curious she expanded, "The ink is in the barrel, here. And it comes out of the tip when you start writing. Here, give it a try."

She handed him the black pen and watched as he turned it over, testing its weight between his fingers before putting the tip down on his own notebook. A look of surprised fascination overtook his features as he watched the ink run smoothly out of the pen's tip.

Hermione laughed quietly and pulled out a new pen from her bag.

"Here. You can have this one if you like." She handed him the new pen and watched his widen as he noticed that the ink was visible in the clear tube in this pen.

"Thanks," he looked suddenly thoughtful. "Why haven't I ever seen any other students at Hogwarts with these…what did you call them?"

"A pen. You probably haven't seen them because we're not allowed to use them in class or for essays."

"What? Why not?"

Hermione shrugged lightly, "I have my theories, but all I know is that when McGonagall gave me my letter she said things were done differently in the wizarding world than in the muggle world and that I would have to adapt. Part of that was that we aren't allowed to use certain items from the muggle world for classes."

Cedric was baffled, "Like what?"

"Pens, calculators, spiral notebooks," He quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, "—they're sort of like parchment, but it's thinner than parchment, like this," she showed him her notebook, "but it's bound using a metal coil."

"But that's ridiculous! What does it matter what you write in or with? It works just as well," he exclaimed, perplexed. "You said you had theories."

"Well—the Wizarding World is quite…proud of its heritage," she dropped her voice slightly to avoid being overheard by the others. "I think it's just another subtle way of asserting Wizards' belief in their superiority over Muggles."

It was something of a taboo subject given the Wizarding World's history with Grindelwald and Voldemort and thus, an unpopular opinion to hold in the magical community, one that she had never shared with anyone outside her parents. The thought of modernizing or changing the magical way of life to reflect that of Muggles was seen as tainting Wizard-kind. But the longer she lived in the magical world, the less she was willing to remain silent on the numerous prejudices that everyone else seemed satisfied to abide by. She'd often thought that of all her friends in the magical world Harry was the most likely to see the inequities and prejudices against Muggles and Muggleborns, but he was often too enraptured with the wonders of the magical world to really see any of its faults. Considering his abysmal upbringing though, she could never fault him for focusing on the good bits of life in their new world.

Cedric meanwhile seemed surprised at her broach of the subject, but nodded thoughtfully, lowering his voice to match hers, "The Wizarding World — _we_ like to think we've changed as a society. Since Grindelwald and Voldemort. And we make a good show of it for the most part. But the truth is that even before any of them, witches and wizards have always thought of themselves as separate from Muggles. The Statute of Secrecy was enacted out of fear of Muggles, but it's only survived unchanged because of the belief in our superiority, and—"

"And it means people like me will never be entirely welcome in the wizarding world. We'll always be outsiders," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"No," Cedric protested and met her ironic glare with his own stern gaze, "Not if we keep pushing for change. D'you know the Americans have decided to allow wizards to reveal themselves to Muggles? Not at large, of course, but to friends. And it wasn't long ago that wizards in Britain couldn't even tell their spouses about magic. But all that's changed now. It just takes time."

"That's annoyingly rational and optimistic," Hermione grumbled.

"Heaven forbid!" Cedric said dramatically, throwing an arm around her shoulders and tugging her to his side slightly.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She knew was being rather dismal about it, but it was in her nature to want immediate results.

She glanced across the compartment at the boys. They had apparently stopped playing their game and Ron was now admiring his tiny Krum figure as it walked up and down the length of his hand.

"Still can't believe how far up we were," Ron exclaimed wonderingly.

"I wouldn't get used to it if I were you, Weasley. You'll be right back in the dirt where you belong soon enough."

Malfoy stood at their doorway, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Cedric ground out through clenched teeth. He clearly hadn't forgotten their encounter in the woods the night of the Cup. Malfoy's cold eyes dashed between him and Hermione, taking in their close proximity, and his smirk turned into a sneer.

"So, going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name?"

"What're you on about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated.

"Either explain what you're talking about or get out, Malfoy," said Hermione testily from beside Cedric.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's sickly pale face.

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got family in the Ministry, so does Diggory, and you don't even know? Father told me about it _ages_ ago. Heard it from Cornelius Fudge himself. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry. Your father must be too junior to know about it, Weasley. Yes, they probably don't talk about anything important in front of him."

Snickering, Malfoy motioned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door behind them hard enough to shatter the glass.

"Oi!" Cedric exclaimed, brushing off bits of glass from his hair and trousers.

"Ron!" said Hermione hissed reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered ' _Reparo_ ' and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well, making it look like he knows everything and we don't," Ron snarled. "'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry.' Dad could've gotten a promotion any time, he just likes it where he is."

"We know that," said Hermione calmly. "Malfoy's just trying to get to you, Ron, don't let him. Just think of it this way: Bagman gave your dad those tickets because he likes and respects him. Lucius Malfoy practically had to bribe Fudge to have him as his guest. I almost feel sorry for Fudge, he must've felt like a hostage being stuck with all three of the Malfoys."

They smiled at her apt description.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. We may not have a lot of money, but dad's never had to _pay_ anyone to like him," Ron said, sounding in much better humor and picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes.

Cedric was smiling at her with a mixture of amusement and something she didn't want to name, Hermione noticed with curiosity.

"What?" She asked quietly as the boys went back to reliving the Cup.

"Nothing. Just - that was very rational and optimistic of you." He said, failing to contain his amusement.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she shoved him lightly, "Oh, hush, you!"

Their good moods remained for the rest of the journey. They talked as they pulled on their school robes, and were still laughing at Ron's description of Archie and his floral dressing ground at the water pump when the Hogwarts Express finally began to slow to a stop in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. They left the train with heads bent and eyes narrowed against the angry downpour. The rain was now coming down so heavy and fast it was as though someone were throwing buckets of ice-cold water over their heads.

"I'd hate to be the First Years right about now, crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched carefully along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. She and Cedric huddled together, hanging onto each other for support on the slippery cobblestone road. The eerie line of black carriages seemed more ominous by the storming conditions as they stood waiting silently just outside the station gates. Hermione and Cedric reached the carriage first, Cedric tugging the door open while trying to keep his footing. They all clambered in gratefully and shut the door with a snap. Soon, with one big lurch, the long procession of carriages was bouncing treacherously up the lane toward Hogwarts.


	8. Chapter Eight: By the Pricking of My

**Chapter Eight: By the Pricking of My Thumb**

The carriage swayed violently in the wind as it wound its way up the path. They could barely make out the castle's many lighted windows behind the thick sheet of rain. When the carriage finally lurched to a stop, its occupants gratefully jumped down out from its safety and dashed up the steps, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous entrance hall.

"Shite," Cedric hissed after nearly slipping on the wet floor, Hermione grabbing his arm to steady him instinctively, "I feel like I'll never be dry —"

"AARGH!"

A large, orange balloon had dropped down from somewhere above them and exploded onto Ron's head, drenching him in an odd-looking transparent slime. Confused and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second balloon dropped, narrowly missing Hermione and bursting at Harry's feet. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Cedric looked up and groaned in frustration, Fred and George were standing on the staircase's landing, methodically carefully aiming the orange balloons bearing a Weasley's Wheeze's logo at their targets.

"This is worse than their fake wands," Cedric groaned long-sufferingly, shivering as he gave a shout and dodged another balloon.

"MR. WEAS-BOTH OF YOU!" sputtered an angry voice. "Down here at once!"

Professor McGonagall was dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on a rogue patch of goo from the balloons and grabbed onto the two nearest people she could reach to stop herself from falling.

" _Ouch_ — sorry, Miss Granger — Mr. Diggory —"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, she and Cedric massaging their necks.

"Both of you get down here _now_!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring up at the twins through her spectacles.

The twins smiled mischievously and quickly banished their remaining balloons.

"What? They're already wet, aren't they?" George defended cheekily.

"Detention! With me! Every day for the next two weeks! Both of you! And 50 points from Gryffindor _each_ ," Professor McGonagall sputtered angrily. "And I am _warning_ you two —"

Professor McGonagall appeared to be too angry to finish her threat, however, and simply glared at the troublesome pair.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to what was left of the disheveled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Hermione and the rest slid across the goo now coating the floor around them. It had turned an interesting shade of green that was almost fluorescent, Hermione noted, and she gave a yelp of surprise.

"Ron, your _hair_!"

Ron looked alarmed but nonplussed as everyone watched, fascinated as his roots slowly turned a dark, almost glowing shade of green.

McGonagall glared over at the twins anew, "Spell or potion?"

"Spell," they answered in unison. Though McGonagall's brogue was so thick now they were surprised they could understand her at all.

Ron meanwhile was looking more alarmed by the second and finally ground out, " _What's wrong with my hair?_ "

"Well," Harry began awkwardly, "Y'know how Malfoy likes to insult you about its color? I-it wouldn't really be a problem at the moment."

Hermione couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her but at Ron's desperate glare she promptly clamped her mouth shut and put her hands up in a gesture of surrender, "Sorry."

McGonagall sighed impatiently, pointing her wand at Ron's head and muttering, " _Finite Incantatem_." Ron's hair quickly returned to its normal color and McGonagall clucked impatiently, "Now, off you go!"

They squelched their way through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face while Hermione twisted her dripping hair into a hair clip, a few shorter pieces of dark hair coming loose around her face.

The Great Hall was wonderfully warm, thousands of enchanted candles floating in above their heads. Harry and Ron walked past the Slytherins and the Ravenclaws on their way to the Gryffindor table, while Hermione stayed behind with Cedric, standing close together by the Hufflepuff table as they talked.

Half the girls in the Great Hall gawked jealously at Hermione while some of the boys stared at her appreciatively. Her black robes were soaked through and sticking to her like a second skin, unknowingly revealing her figure.

"I'll try and stop by after dinner," he said.

"Good," she smiled. "I'd better go, if I stay any longer there's a chance I won't make it through the night unscathed," she said, discreetly eyeing a group of Ravenclaw girls that were glowering at Hermione with particular zeal.

Cedric was nonplussed and followed her gaze. He swallowed hard and turned back to Hermione looking a bit nervous, "Don't let them scare you away, they're harmless. For the most part," he amended.

"Right," she said, considering him dubiously. "Well, don't worry about me. It'll take more than a few lovesick puppies to scare me away," she said amusedly.

A look of relief overtook his expression, "Good to know."

She gave him one last smile and touched his arm gently as she walked down the table and sat down between Harry and Neville at the far side of the Hall. Hermione took one look at Ron and Harry's miserable, cold expressions and discreetly pulled out her wand, muttering a few quick drying spells. In an instant Ron, Harry, Neville, Ginny and herself were warm and dry.

They all looked at her gratefully, Harry and Neville offering her their heartfelt thanks. Pavarti and Lavender suddenly materialized at Hermione's side, both beaming, their eyes hungry for information.

"Why were you talking to Cedric Diggory?" "How the hell do you know Cedric Diggory?" "When did you two meet?" " _How_ did you two meet?" they both squawked simultaneously.

Hermione cringed at their shrill tones and looked at them irritably, " _For god's sake_ , _you're going to blow my eardrums out_ _._ _"_

"Sorry," Lavender said at a more reasonable volume. "But don't try to change the subject, it won't work. Why did you come in with Cedric Diggory and why were you two talking? I had no idea you even _knew_ each other. I mean, _you_ of all people."

Hermione ignored the jab at her rather anti-social tendencies and rolled her eyes, "We met at the World Cup and that's all I'm telling you. Oh, and here," she cast two more drying spells and it was enough to get their minds off their previous goal. They bounced away with chirped thanks, obviously still speculating about her and Cedric in hushed tones.

 _And they wonder why I'd rather read than talk to them_ , she mused silently. She had long realized that the other girls in her year weren't vicious in the way that Pansy was, but they _were_ vapid and rather uncaring. All the same, she really couldn't imagine herself passing the time with girl talk. She still remembered the last time they tried to include her in of their late night chats in the dorms. Fay Dunbar had made a rather cruel passing remark about Ginny's very obvious crush on Harry that left Hermione feeling angry on Ginny's behalf and guilty for having an even passive role in the conversation. She decided then that she had better, less destructive things to do with her time. It alienated her from her peers, she knew that. But it was better than being cruel for the sake of others' entertainment.

Her gaze moved past the two girls and to the top table. She involuntarily froze, first in curiosity, then in shock. At first glance, everything seemed normal. Professor Snape, sitting, gazing down on them with a barely contained sneer, Professor Sprout smiling brightly as ever as she chatted with Professor Flitwick. But in the dark corner behind the top, stood Professor Dumbledore speaking to the most inexplicable man she had ever seen.

Her eyes wandered over the man's face in horrified fascination. It was scarred deeply, chunks of flesh clearly missing in certain places, a grotesque imitation of humanity that fell short. What was more disturbing still was what had dawn Hermione's gaze to begin with. Strapped to the man's face with a leather strap was an eye, set in a metal disk, and whirling almost ceaselessly in its home. She immediately felt an immense wave of guilt wash over her for being so judgmental of the man, but her immediate impressions could not be helped.

"I wonder who the new Defense teacher is," Harry commented beside her.

 _Oh, of course. Well, his should be interesting. He certainly looks the part._

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone," said Ron, looking grim, "S'no wonder, too, considering what happened to the last three."

Hermione shot him a half-hearted glare at his reference to the supposed curse on the position but kept silent otherwise, not wanting to bring attention to the man before Dumbledore intended to. Though she could see that some of the other students sitting near the top table had already taken notice of the man as well.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, across from Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."

"Don't let Hagrid hear you say that." Hermione shot back lightly.

The doors of the Great Hall opened then, and silence quickly fell. Professor McGonagall was leading the first years, who looked as if they'd taken a swim in the lake instead of sailed across it.

Ron groaned at the sheer size of the group, prompting Hermione to nudge him reproachfully under the table. Their attention turned to the Sorting and then to the top table as the professors, including the mysterious man, took their places at the table. A low murmur of alarmed and curious voices ran through the hall until McGonagall called attention once more and the Sorting began.

Nearly an hour later, with Ron looking more mutinous by the second, the Sorting finally ended with "Whitby, Kevin!"("HUFFLEPUFF!").

"About time," grumbled Ron, snatching his knife and fork eagerly.

Hermione smiled wryly at him and shook her head.

"Aaah, 'at's be'r," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato. "'ey, wha's oin' on wid you an' di'ry," Ron directed at Hermione, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of steak and potatoes. "Oops — sorry, 'Arry —"

Hermione grimaced at him in mingled confusion and disgust and turned to Harry beside her, " _What_ did he just say?"

"Something about a diary, I think," said Harry idly, wiping Ron's mess from his robes.

Across from them, Ron rolled his eyes and swallowed, "Not 'diary', 'Diggory'. What's going on with the two of you? You've been all chummy since the World Cup," Ron said sharply, his eyes narrowed.

Harry looked at Hermione as well, "Seems like you get on," he offered. It was the polar opposite of Ron's tone. No accusation, no reproach, only a friendly and curious comment. Hermione latched onto that like a life preserver and focused on Harry, hoping to avoid a row with Ron.

"There's nothing going on between us. Like you said, we get on. We're friends," she shrugged lightly.

Harry nodded slowly, studying her closely for a few seconds before turning back to his plate.

"Well, that's good. I like him, he's a good bloke," said Harry, digging into his mashed potatoes. Hermione smiled at him gratefully.

"Oh, please! He's nothing but a pretty boy git. He's just out for someone else to add to his _fan_ club," Ron exclaimed.

Hermione leveled him with a frosty glare and Harry looked between them nervously. He couldn't pretend to condone or understand Ron's reaction, but he _really_ hoped this wouldn't turn into one of their infamous shouting matches.

"You realize you sound _just_ like Malfoy, don't you?" She told him coldly.

Ron looked stunned at the comparison, the tips of his ears turned a vibrant red, and he was doing a rather good imitation of a fish out of water. However, instead of apologizing, he bent his head over his plate and the pair didn't speak for the remainder of the night.

Once the puddings had been demolished and even Ron's voracious hunger had been satisfied, Dumbledore got to his feet and the Great Hall fell silent.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered.,I must ask for your attention while I make a few announcements. First, I would like to welcome Professor Moody as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

" _Mad-Eye Moody?_ " Hermione mumbled to Ron. "The man your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

Professor Moody stood slightly and nodded jerkily. The limp in his gait was obvious even in the small movement he made to stand and Hermione had to nudge all three boys around her to join in the rather lackluster applause that was scattered around the hall. Moody's normal eye was fixed on a point just above all their heads, but the mechanical eye was still darting around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students, never stopping for more than a few seconds.

Moody seemed entirely indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it.

"Second," Dumbledore continued once the applause faded into an awkward silence, "to all first year students, I must inform you that the Forbidden Forest, as its name suggests, is forbidden to all students. And now for the bad news: I am afraid that it is my sad duty to inform you all that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year."

" _What?_ " Harry choked out. Fred and George, appeared to be in a similar state of denial, soundlessly gawping at Dumbledore, evidently too appalled to speak.

Hermione glanced over at the Hufflepuff table and saw Cedric looking almost as distraught at the news. _Oh, they'll be a misery all year now._

The sad and outraged murmurs wafting through the Hall left Dumbledore undeterred, "But alas, there is still excitement to be had. For, this year, Hogwarts will be hosting one of the Wizarding World's most storied and illustrious events. The Triwizard Tournament."

Hermione felt her stomach plummet. _No, they wouldn't._

"You're _joking_!" said Fred Weasley loudly. _My feelings exactly,_ Hermione mused, _though I don't think we mean quite the same thing._

It was enough to break the tension that had filled the Hall since Moody's introduction, at least. Nearly everyone laughed, even a few Slytherins, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am _not_ joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer —"

Professor McGonagall pointedly cleared her throat.

"Er — but perhaps this is not...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament. As some of you may know, it has been well over a century since the last tournament. The reason for this, of course, was the high death toll that habitually resulted in each tournament. Since then, there have been many attempts to reinstitute the tournament, none of which has been successful.

"Now, however, our Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have triumphed and we have worked carefully to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

Hermione breathed a little easier, but couldn't quash the uneasiness she felt. Knowing her boys, Ron would probably jump at the chance to enter. Harry, on the other hand, she knew would likely say away from the competition, thankfully.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, two of our fellow European schools, will be arriving with their final contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place on Halloween night. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm. He wasn't the only one. At every House table, Hermione could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors and Hermione felt a sinking sense of dread when she saw the look of determination on Cedric's face. Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"I know many of you are eager to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "however, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have decided to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know you must all be tired after such a long train ride. Bedtime!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, scowling at the top table. "A thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "A thousand Galleons..."

Hermione ignored their fantasizing and set off for the entrance hall, which was thankfully free of any green goo.

"Hey, pretty exciting, isn't it?"

Hermione looked to her right and smiled nervously at Cedric.

"Very," she said. "You thinking of entering?"

"How'd you know?" He asked sheepishly.

"Call it a hunch."

"Well, the timing couldn't be better, could it? I turn seventeen the last week of September after all," said Cedric, getting excited again. "So, what do you think?"

She fought hard against the instinct to warn him off it or guilt him into not entering...it really wasn't her place, but still...

"I think the whole thing is _ridiculous_ and dangerous, _but_ if you want to enter, then I'll support you in any way I can, of course," replied Hermione carefully.

"Really?" said Cedric, smiling again.

"Really," Hermione confirmed with a firm nod.

Cedric's smile widened and he swept her off her feet in a hug, pulling her close. "That means everything," he said hugging her to his side as she smiled softly.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Hermione, when they reached the bottom of the staircase.

"'Night," Cedric replied, giving her hands one last squeeze.


End file.
